The one that was broken
by Harmonics Rioter
Summary: After the death of his sister, 8 year old Christopher Atwell takes shelter in his make-believe world with the only friends he has left: his Fazbear plush toys. All the boy wants is to grow up and learn to be brave... but fate has something else in mind for him. A FNaF 4 fic. [COMPLETED]
1. Toys

**Author's Note:** Welcome ladies and gentleman! To old readers: thank you _very_ much for taking the invitation and joining me on my second fic. To all new readers: thank you _very_ much for clicking this story and giving it a shot.

Now, in the surreal-ish spirit of this last game, flashbacks, dreams and imagination will play a vital role in this story. I've read quite a lot of FNaF 4 fics by now, and it is my intention to take a slightly different turn from the patterns I've seen so far. I know this game is perhaps the most debated of all, so keep in mind that I'm basing this on what I personally believe is true. That doesn't mean I'm not open to your ideas though, as I like to hear different opinions to try and decipher the FNaF series better.

If you're reading _The ones that were lost_ you should know that this fic is not connected to it in any way; they're two completely separate stories. This will also be much shorter, 4-5 chapters max. However, there will be quite a few references to it, so keep an eye out for them :)

Okay guys, here it is. I'm experimenting with a few new things here, so let me know what you think. And as always, happy reading!

Disclaimer: The Five Nights at Freddy's franchise and its characters are owned and created by Scott Cawthon. I don't own anything in this story that is made purely for entertainment purposes.

* * *

 ** _Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one._**

\- **Albert Einstein**

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Toys**

The headlights of the battered car barely managed to light up the lonely countryside road while the vehicle sped through the dark, rainy night. The 17 year old male driver grinned smugly as he took a sharp turn, making the worn-out tires give out a sharp screech. The other two passengers, a 10 year old girl that was sitting next to the driver and a 7 year old boy in the backseat, clutched their favorite stuffed toys and closed their eyes nervously as the car took another sharp turn at dangerous speed. The girl had a white fox with pink lips and yellow eyes; the boy held close his beloved golden bear.

"Bryan, slow down!" demanded the girl as she looked reproachfully at her older brother.

"Oh, c'mon Lizzie!" laughed Bryan, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to grin at his younger sibling, "I've been driving for almost a year now, okay? I know what I'm doing."

Elizabeth Atwell crossed her arms and put on a sour face. "Then remind me why we're missing our back bumper Speed Racer." she mumbled lowly.

"I told you a million times already!" shot back Bryan, "I was _slowly_ backing up from the mall's parking lot when this idiot just rushed through the lane and hit me." He let out an angry chuckle. "It was _his_ fault, not mine. Right, Chris?"

Christopher raised his sight from his favorite toy and best friend, and looked at his brother's expecting eyes through the rear-view mirror. "Y-yes, of course." he whispered shyly, letting his gaze fall back down to his plushy.

Bryan shook his head. "I don't know why you two are so obsessed with those stupid toys! Lizzie, you're almost eleven! Shouldn't you get rid of that thing?"

Elizabeth's answer was to clutch her toy even closer to her chest. "Ms. Betty Fox is my friend, okay?"

"Yeah, sure." Bryan smirked as he made another sharp turn way over the speed limit. "It's one of those new cutesy plush toys, right?"

"Yup!" replied a cheerier sounding Lizzie, "And I heard that maybe, someday, they'll make actual animatronics out of them! Wouldn't that be awesome Chris?"

The boy smiled and nodded, but in reality he was _terrified_ of those metal monsters. Not because of their appearance, not because of their creepy unnatural movements, but because of what they meant to him. In them, he saw his greatest fear.

Reality.

Christopher Atwell had a 'fantasy prone personality'; a mental condition that blurred the lines between imagination and reality, making it nearly impossible for him to distinguish between the two. This often led him to get completely lost in a daydream. Of course, he wasn't to blame for his condition; but for his family, classmates and teachers, ignorant to the boy's reality, he was nothing more than a fantasizer, weirdo, and loner.

The 7 year old happily believed that the Fazbear Gang in his room were his _real_ friends, and more than a bunch of dye and fabric. The sight of the terribly fake animatronic characters inevitably showed the reality he liked to ignore: his best friends were just a product of his broken mind.

"But, we're not Chris!" Fredbear raised his head and locked his glistering black eyes on the boy, "We're your friends, right?"

"Of course Goldie!" whispered the kid, low enough so that none of his siblings could hear him. "But they can't see you like I can... nobody can."

"That doesn't mean we're not real." The plush toy crossed his arms and looked up hopefully at his friend. "We're real to you, aren't we?"

"Yes, you are." Chris smiled, but he was ripped out of his daydream by the ear-piercing shriek of the car's tires.

Bryan was turning the driving wheel desperately, trying to regain some control on the car as the tires slipped on the asphalt. "I CAN'T TURN!" he screamed in panic. Lizzie let out a high-pitched cry as the blinding headlights of the truck in front of the small car came closer and closer. Bryan slammed the brakes, only to make the car slide on the wet road. The grave honk of the truck roared through the air one last time when the two vehicles were seconds away from crashing. Chris could only look in horror from the backseat as the passenger's side of his brother's car crumbled to nothingness against the truck's front. Lizzie let out a hopeless wail...

And in an explosion of shattered glass and twisted metal, the boy's world turned black and silent.

* * *

Panting and sobbing heavily, Christopher shot up from his bed, holding his trembling chest as tears began to roll over the soon-to-be 9 year old's cheeks. That night, he lost his sister, and in some ways, also his brother. Since the accident, Bryan was... different. He had always played little jokes and pranks on Christopher, but never with bad intentions and certainly nothing dangerous. Now, it seemed that the only way the 19 year old could forget about his own pain for a while was to cause _more_ to his little brother.

"Chris?" Fredbear stood up from his place on the bed and slowly walked to the crying child, who buried his head in his hands as he sobbed away. "What's wrong?"

"Sh-sh-she..." The boy let out a shaky sigh, "Sh-she's d-dead Goldie." He looked at his plushy with teary, puffy eyes. "I m-miss her so much..." Fresh tears sprouted from Chris' eyes as the last memories of his sister played back in his mind.

"Shh, don't cry again." hushed the golden toy softly, patting the boy's leg with his fuzzy hands.

"I... I w-want to s-stop c-crying Goldie," sobbed Christopher, "b-but I... I CAN'T!" A soft whimper escaped from the child's throat as he shook his head. "B-Bryan's right... I'm such a use-" he sniffed, "useless c-crybaby. Why am I l-like t-this?! W-why c-can't I be b-brave?!"

"You're brave to me Chris!" exclaimed Fredbear, looking up at his crying companion with a tender smile. "You're everything I want to be! You're big, strong, kind, smart..."

"R-really?" the boy raised his tear-stained face from his arms and smiled weakly at the little plush toy that was standing in front of him. "You m-mean t-that?"

"Yeah!" beamed the golden bear, "You're my friend!"

"He's my friend too!" called out a peppy voice from the corner of the room. Standing next to the other plushies, Bonnie waved and smiled heartily at Chris.

"And mine!" chirped Freddy as he stood up from the little pile of toys and tipped this hat at the child.

"Hey! Don't forget about me guys!" chuckled Chica with her squeaky voice. She smiled, putting her hands on her hips and tapping her foot, pretending to be mad at Christopher for forgetting her.

"Arr, yer be me first matey too, lad!" The headless Foxy plushy stood up next to the other three toys. Then, the brown, purple, red and yellow shapes ran towards Chris' bed, jumped on it and surrounded the now-smiling boy.

"See? You're not alone!" Goldie smiled at Christopher before leaping on top of the kid's chest, hugging him tightly and making him fall on his back on top of his covers. Freddy, Bonnie, Chica and Foxy followed the example and soon the boy was covered with plush toys that nuzzled against him.

" _We're your friends!_ " the five chorused, tightening their hugs around the kid.

Chris' tears dried, and laughing joyfully, he hugged back his toys. "You're my friends too!" he smiled and closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of the loving embrace. "You're the best friends I could ask for..."

The boy's smile faded as a fist banged loudly against the door of his room. "Hey, hey! Wake up loser!" shouted Bryan angrily, "Mom and Dad are coming soon; so get up, get dressed and get out of there... NOW!"

The young adult stomped away from the room, mumbling something under his breath. Chris finally opened his eyes and looked around. Fredbear hadn't moved from his spot on the bed, and stared lifelessly at the opposite side of the room. The other four plushies were still crammed together in the corner next to the door, just like they were last night. They didn't move, they didn't talk, they didn't laugh... they just sat inertly in their spot, smiling their sown smiles at nothing.

Chris sighed, and looked down. "Yes, you're the best friends I could ask for..." his voice began to crack slightly as his lips curled into a sad smile. "If only..." A single tear rolled down his cheek, clung down from his chin for a moment and fell down on his chest. "If only you were real..."

* * *

Christopher stood alone in the hallway of his house, holding Goldie with one hand as he discretely wiped away his tears with the other. His mother and father were rushing in and out of rooms, drinking coffee, grabbing briefcases and putting on their suit's jackets, repeatedly muttering something about how late they were.

"You know the drill Bryan." started Mr. Atwell, looking sternly into his older son's eyes as he put a hand on his shoulder. "Your mother and I are going away to the conference for a week. There's some cash in my drawer for emergencies _only."_ The formally dressed man spat out the last word very slowly, as if to make sure that Bryan understood everything perfectly. The older boy nodded.

"Good. There's more than enough food in the freezer and the maid will come on Sunday to clean everything. And please..." Mr. Atwell's lighter tone once again became low and severe, "take good care of Chris, alright?"

"Off course dad!" replied Bryan, showing off an innocent smile. "Don't worry, nothing bad will happen. I promise."

"Good." The man gave a hard smile and an icy pat on the shoulder to his older son.

On the hallway, Mrs. Atwell walked briskly towards her younger child, high heels clacking against the black and blue tiles. "Hi Chris," she greeted softly as she knelt in front of her miserable-looking boy and ruffled his hair, "we're going away for a few days. You know that, right?" The almost 9 year old nodded without looking up at his mother. "It's just going to be a week."

"So, you're not going to be here for my birthday?" The boy's eyes misted over as he raised his head to the taken-aback woman.

"Umm, not exactly." she admitted, forcing a condescending smile, "But as soon as we get back we're going to give you a nice, big birthday party with all your friends, alright?"

Christopher looked down and whispered in a weak, cold tone: "I don't have any friends Mom."

The woman sighed. "Then we're going to invite some kids from your school and you can make some friends!" she said rapidly before glancing at her golden wristwatch. "I'm sure you'll have lots of fun."

Mrs. Atwell pulled her son into a fast, cold hug, stood up and almost sprinted to the front door that her husband was holding open. He let his wife rush through and enter the gleaming new car. "Bryan, one last thing." called out the man.

The young adult quickly turned around to face his father. "Yes Dad?" he answered immediately, smiling at the older figure.

"You're _not_ driving anything or anywhere." With those last serious words the suited man closed the door. A few seconds later, the car was heard pulling away from the suburban household.

"You still haven't forgiven me, have you Dad?" whispered Bryan coldly, still facing the closed door. "What do you think about that Chris?" The older son turned around slowly to look at his terrified brother as his angelical smile turned into a devilish grin. "So… I guess now we should spend some 'bonding time' together, right lil' bro?"

Christopher's answer was a panicked run to his room, not daring to turn around for one second. The boy pulled open the door, slammed it shut and leaned against it with all his little weight. He clutched Goldie close to his chest as he heard Bryan's heavy footsteps approach ominously from the hall. Chris shut his eyes tightly, hearing the door handle rattle for a few seconds above him. Experience had taught him that regardless of his efforts his brother could just push open the door, if he really wanted to.

But he didn't. Bryan eventually walked away slowly and calmly, much to Christopher's relief. The boy sighed, set Goldie on top of the bed and tried to calm himself down.

"Chris, you do have friends!" reprimanded the golden plush toy, "You have us!"

"Yes Goldie, but I can't invite you to a birthday party!" was Christopher's reply. "They'll think I'm crazy."

"So?" The toy crossed his small arms. "You know that kids are cruel and mean, they've always been like that to you. But we'll never leave you alone Chris… never."

The boy smiled at his best friend. "Thanks Goldie. I'll check if Bryan's gone."

Christopher walked to the door, grabbed the handle and turned his hand… but the handle didn't turn along with it. He grabbed the small golden sphere with both hands and tried frantically to open the thing, hoping that it was just a bit rusty. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, the door wouldn't budge.

"No…" whimpered the boy, "No, please!"

"What did he do this time?" asked a worried Goldie. Chris eventually gave up and walked up and down his room aimlessly as bitter tears of resentment and frustration rolled down his cheeks. Then, the toy understood. "He locked you in your room again. Don't worry, I am here with you."

"But I'm hungry!" wailed Christopher before rushing to the door and banging desperately on it. "Bryan, p-please! I'm hungry! P-please… please j-just open up!" The boy's small fists began to sting and turn red from all the useless hits against the wood. Finally, Chris gave up. He let his body fall and let his tears flow freely as he sobbed on the cold floor.

The golden toy looked at his friend with sad, pinpoint eyes. He then whispered in a soothing, warm voice: "Tomorrow is another day."

* * *

 **A/N:** So, that was the first chap. I invite you to leave a review letting me know what you though of it. Remember that I'm very open to suggestions and constructive criticism, and if you spotted an error please be kind enough to let me know. I'll update this fic either on Friday, Saturday and Sunday, when and if I can. Thanks for reading and see you next time!


	2. Flashes of red

**A/N:** Welcome back guys, and happy Friday! I apologize if the wait seemed a bit long for some of you, but I've recently started college and been really busy. Still, I'm not someone that abandons a story. Even if I might take my time to update rest assured; I won't leave you hanging :)

Hope you enjoy this one, and remember that I appreciate to hear your honest opinions. Also, please let me know if you spotted an error. And now, happy reading! Have a good weekend, take care and see ya next time.

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Flashes of red**

For Christopher, going to Freddy's at day meant facing the terrifying reality of the fakeness of his friends. His fantasy, the only shelter he had in a world that looked down at him, was blown away by the images of people operating mechanical bear suits and corny, fake animatronics singing on stage.

But at night, his overactive imagination betrayed him, using the dark as a source of ideas to torture the boy. Terrifying shadows moved and crawled in the corner of his eye, the rear lights of a car were two monstrous red eyes looming at him, and every sound was distorted by his mind into nightmarish noises.

Tonight was one of those nights.

Christopher was hiding under a table in the main hall, doing the only thing he considered himself good at: crying. His brother had once again abandoned him there, in the place he hated and dreaded. He had tried to get out, but he was too afraid to get up and face the darkness of the desolated pizzeria. Tears of fear mixed with those of self-loathing. Once again, he couldn't keep his fear at bay. Once again, he wasn't brave enough.

The place had closed about an hour ago, and in all that time the only sound he heard was his own sobbing. He was hoping to eventually fall asleep on the cold tiles and for the janitor to find him, just like he had done many times before. But a distant banging noise suddenly made the boy open his swollen eyes in surprise.

"Wh-what was that?" sniffed Chris, wiping away the tears with his shirt's sleeve.

"I'm not sure." was Goldie's answer. Although the actual plushy was at the Atwell's house, the image in front of the boy was so lifelike it might as well have been real. So powerful was his imagination. "I think it came from the stage."

Christopher stood up slowly, taking deep breaths to calm himself down. He wanted to find out what that banging was, but at the same time he was afraid of what he might find.

"C'mon Chris, let's go!" urged Goldie, tugging the kid by his jeans.

"What if it's dangerous!" hissed back the latter, looking fearfully at the direction where the noises came from. Then, they heard it.

"HELP!" The desperate scream of a little girl rung through the building, chilling Christopher to the bone. "SOMEBODY, HELP!"

The boy froze, brown eyes wide open in surprise. Suddenly, he broke in a sprint towards the hopeless cries, his imaginary friend running close behind. It took Chris a second or two realize what he was doing. He was afraid, very afraid, but the urge to help whoever asked for it won over his fear.

Panting, the pair arrived at the main stage. The boy did his best not to look at the shadow-covered Fredbear and Spring Bonnie that stared lifelessly at the lonely dining room like two Disneyesque gargoyles. Sneaking towards the stage, Christopher tried to make as little noise as possible. He could just about hear a faint metallic clacking and clanging coming from the backstage. All his senses were focused; all his emotions were on edge as he hoisted his little body, back then barely eight years old, on the wood of the elevated stage. Goldie was no longer there; in that moment the only thing in the world was the red curtain that Chris was now slowly pushing aside.

There, in the little area between the curtains he was peeking through and the door to the backstage room, stood a man with his back turned to him. Behind the tall and slender male, four big and familiar animatronics were slumped down against the wall. Colors became clearer as the boy's eyes adjusted to the darkness, only for his stomach to twist when he realized that Freddy, Bonnie and Foxy, the brand new animatronics, were covered in fresh blood next to Chica. He now saw that the man was wearing the dark purple uniform of the security guards of Freddy's.

"P-please... please don't k-kill me." The crying girl that was lying on the floor in front of the man was so small that Christopher only noticed her now. Sleek black hair covered her face and clung on to the tears on her cheeks as she looked up pleadingly at the towering figure.

"Kill you?" repeated the man sarcastically, a sadistic smile crawling up his face as he stared at the bloody kitchen knife in his hand, "No, you're confused darling. I'm here to give you a brand new life!"

The little girl shook her head energetically. "No... NO!" she shrieked, crawling backwards to the wall where the four animatronics were until she was against the concrete.

The man in purple walked up to her calmly; the knife casually swinging between his fingers. "Shh, don't cry." he purred, so slowly and sweetly it made the hairs on Christopher's neck rise, "It will all be over very soon. You'll be with your friends then!"

Like a calf in the slaughterhouse the girl looked around the dark area desperately. Then, her eyes locked with those of Chris. "Please, help me." she begged slowly and weakly; but the boy was too shell-shocked to move or speak. With more urgency, the hopeless creature repeated "Help me!" This time, he understood her, but the fear he felt in his bones was so pure, so strong, that he couldn't move a muscle no matter how much he tried.

"It's bedtime darling." cooed the man, raising the knife above his head.

For one last time, the girl cried "PLEASE HELP M-"

With a flash of red, the steel blade buried itself in her soft throat, turning her plea into a choking gurgle. A single tear rolled down her cheek as her body fell sideways in slow motion. Frozen in shock, Chris stared at the morbid display with his eyes and mouth wide open, an expression that was the definition of horror.

Looking down at the girl like a father that admires his sleeping baby, the tall man waited patiently until the light died from her eyes. He then knelt down beside her, pulled the knife from her throat and without turning around, whispered "How nice of you to join us kiddo."

An unbearable pressure crushed the boy's chest; nausea hit him like a freight train as the killer turned his head and looked at him in the eyes. "What's wrong?" taunted the smiling man, "Cat got your tongue?"

Through his hazy, tangled mess of thoughts, Chris realized that his life was in danger. He wanted, no, _needed_ to flee, but terror still had a good hold of his body as the killer approached him with a wide grin on his face. "Ah, I see. You're scared." Stopping his walk, the man looked down pitifully at the child. "Is that why you couldn't help her? You poor little thing... here you are, left alone, and you had to see this." The compassion in his voice seemed real, almost too much. "Don't worry kiddo, you won't feel scared for much longer." He walked speedily to Chris, his smile widening with every step as he tightened his grip on the knife.

But primal survival instinct took over the boy, and his legs suddenly started to carry his body away from there. He shot away from the man, jumped off the stage, stumbled through the dining room, dashed past the hall and made it to an unlocked window. Fueled by adrenaline, he managed to pull up the heavy frame.

"Leaving already kiddo?" boomed the killer's voice in the distance, more disappointed than angry, "What a shame. But don't fear," Grunting and wheezing, Chris squeezed himself through the square frame as the chillingly warm voice got nearer, "I won't forget about you!" The boy let his body drop from the window and landed flat on his back. He yelped and closed his eyes in pain, opening them just to see the man staring down at him through the window, before the purple figure whispered darkly and sweetly: "You'll be very happy once you join our family. I have the perfect place for you..."

The child crawled away from the window and pushed himself up, ignoring the pain. Not turning around, he ran into the cold, dusky night. His lungs burned as he rushed through the familiar parking lot, playground and clean suburban streets. Little by little, tears blurred the darkened path in front of the boy as he began to fully understand what just happened. Out of breath, he stopped in the middle of a lonely sidewalk, let himself fall on the floor, and with his face buried in his hands, cried bitter tears unto his cheeks that became silvery streaks under the moonlight. Then, suddenly, he screamed and roared with all his might; out of fear, out of pain, but most of all out of guilt.

"Why...?" Christopher punched the sidewalk out of anger and frustration. That girl had asked for help, _his_ help, and he didn't do anything.

"WHY...?!" The child's hand began to redden from the hits against the pavement. If he would've just been able to put aside his fear for one second, if he would've just moved and defended the girl, she'd be alive right now.

"WHY AM I A COWARD?!" He didn't realize that it was a fully grown man with a knife against two unarmed children. All he could think about were those two innocent eyes that met his, and how they slowly lost their glow as the girl they belonged to bled out on the floor.

Half an hour later, Bryan was watching TV on the couch of the living room, when a weak knock on the door disturbed his peace. Cursing softly under his breath, he stomped to the front door and yanked it open roughly.

"Hey dad," began the young man with fake happiness, "I thought you wouldn't be back toni-" His dark brown eyes widened at the sight of his little brother sobbing miserably in front of him. The older son huffed in annoyance. "Hey hey loser," he greeted, unimpressed, "how did you get out?"

"C-call the p-police." whimpered the boy urgently, shuffling himself into the house.

Bryan rolled his eyes. "Yeah right, so you can go cry to them and say that your big brother hurt you?"

"Someone k-killed a girl in Freddy's!" shouted Chris angrily, "You have t-to do something!"

"First of all, don't talk to me like that." snarled the older son menacingly, pointing a foreboding finger at the youngster, "And second of all, you were just seeing things…" he sighed, "like you always do…"

"NOT TRUE!" The boy balled his tiny fists, stomping hard on the floor and causing tiny salty droplets to fly from his eyes, "It was real! I _know_ it was!"

"Whatever loser." mumbled Bryan, walking back to the couch before letting his heavy body fall on top of it. "Just go to bed, will ya?"

"B-but… but…"

"I SAID GO!"

Chris glared daggers at his recently changed brother, and whispered "You only hate me now because you hate yourself."

"Shut up." hissed back the young man in a warning tone.

"Dad never forgave you, and now you can't forgive yourself."

"I said shut up!"

"You didn't slow down while you were driving! Why should I…"

"SHUT UP!" roared Bryan, jumping off the couch with clenched fists and taking big steps to his brother. Chris immediately turned around and dashed into his room, shutting the door with all his strength.

He leaned against it for a good five minutes before he walked miserably to his bed. In the corner of the room, Freddy, Bonnie, Chica and the back-then-whole Foxy plushies looked at the boy with compassionate, sad eyes. The child buried his head in his pillow, and wailed and sobbed until his throat couldn't take anymore. Then, exhausted in all possible ways, Christopher eventually slipped into an uneasy sleep.

He would never know that Bryan cried more than him that night.

* * *

"Chris?" The sleeping child let out a tired groan when he felt something small and fuzzy tug at his arm. "Hey, wake up." Shaking his head to get rid of the sleep, the boy opened his eyes to see his beloved golden toy in front of him, making him smile despite the horrible memories that, once again, haunted him in dreams.

"Morning Goldie." he yawned as he slipped out of his bed, still sporting the clothes he had when his brother locked him in his room yesterday. He immediately walked up to the door, and smiled out of relieve when he found it unlocked.

"You know he is hiding again." warned the golden plush toy, confirming Christopher's worries. To have Bryan unlock the door without having something up his sleeve would be too much good luck. Still, the boy cautiously slipped into the Atwell's main hall, the image of Goldie keeping a caring eye on him from the top of a luxurious grandfather clock.

Chris started to walk to the living room, but something made him stop and turn around. He was now facing the door of Lizzie's room, left untouched by their parents since her death. The child was surprised when he felt the urge to revisit the place where they spent so many joyful nights, playing, laughing and pranking each other.

Once he went through the door, he felt like he had gone back in time. Everything, from the pink lamp to the tidy peach bed cover and the painting of a daisy, was still in its place. For a golden second, the child felt like it was all a bad dream. Blinded by hope, he thought his sister would come running from the hall and hug him from behind. They would smile and play once more, and he would laugh more than he would cry, just like he used to.

But seeing her destroyed toy lying next to her bed shattered those thoughts. After the crash, Lizzie's body wasn't in a much better state than the white fox she loved so much. Both were broken, crushed, twisted... mangled.

As the sweet memories turned bitter, Christopher let out a shaky sigh, holding back his tears. He quickly left the room, passed the hall and went to the living room. Something deep in his gut told him that Bryan was hiding here. The boy sneaked around carefully, decided not to let his brother win this time. He inspected the wall opposite to the blue sofa, and found no one. He crept past the couch, and still nothing happened. Cautiously, he approached the TV.

"AARGH!" A monster-like flash of red appeared from behind the screen, letting out a heart-stopping growl as it smiled toothily at the child. Chris stumbled back, wailing in fear as he fell on the floor.

Laughing mockingly and triumphantly, Bryan tore off his Foxy mask "Ha! That was good!" he wheezed, holding his belly and wiping a tear from his face. "At least your stupid toys are good for something. They make _great_ masks!"

Christopher let his tears flow freely as he curled himself on the floor. Through his watery eyes, he saw a golden blur smiling kindly at him, before it reassured lovingly: "Tomorrow is another day."

* * *

But there was something that no one saw that day.

Hidden in the thick bushes of the Atwell's yard was a tall, lean man, camouflaged with a military shirt from his days of service: the only good thing that 'Nam had given him. He smiled as he looked at a crying Christopher and a laughing Bryan through the window.

"We found him." he whispered giddily with a wide smile, apparently to no one. "We found our missing family member."

"I don't know why you spent so much time on this Mr. Yoska." sighed a disembodied, young voice next to the man.

"Look at the poor creature!" replied the man emphatically, "That sad excuse of a brother is all he has for a family… he deserves something better than this."

"Then what are you waiting for? Go on, save him like you saved me."

"No, I don't want him to resent me." The lean male frowned thoughtfully. "If anything, we need him to hate this life. Ideally, we want him to resent his brother."

"Resent his brother…" repeated the voice meditatively, causing a minute-long silence.

"Hey, are you sure you can stay out of your body for this long?" asked the man, worried.

"Don't worry about that." replied the invisible thing nonchalantly, "And if you want him to resent his brother," the voice giggled sinisterly, "I have the perfect idea."

"I can't wait to hear it." The lean figure rubbed his hands impatiently after he had crawled silently out of the bushes. As much as he'd like to stay and leer at his prey, he was already late for work. Making sure that no one was watching, the man pulled off his military shirt, stuffed it in his backpack, and put on his purple uniform.


	3. Fantasy and reality

**A/N:** Happy Saturday guys, and welcome back. Sorry for the long wait, I know three weeks is a lot of time, but last weekend I simply didn't get the time to finish this. Nevertheless, thanks for your patience and support, and I hope you enjoy this chap.

On that note, I wanted to invite guest users to create accounts so I can thank them for their support. Technically it's not allowed to reply to comments in stories, but I'd really like to be able to answer you guys... if you want to, off course ;) And now, as always, happy reading.

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Fantasy and reality**

The neighborhood's playground was packed on that late sunny afternoon, mostly with kids who went there regularly. Next to the seesaw, a brown-haired child played with her three little Fazbear toys, similar to the one Lizzie had but smaller. She smiled as she made the so-called 'toy' models, that were a bit different from the actual animatronics, dance and play with each other.

On the swings, a boy and a girl of about the same age laughed and yelled as they pushed themselves higher and higher with every swoop, being careful not the hit the two brothers that were running around the small playground in a frantic chase. The oldest one of about eight beamed evilly as he closed in on his four year old sibling, who giggled joyfully and nervously. Then, when he was close enough, the eldest boy quickly grabbed the squealing younger one by his waist, and announced triumphantly before they both burst out in laughs: "Ha, ha! Got you now private!"

However, there was a small boy who sat in the loneliest, quietest corner, locked away in his tiny bubble of imagination as he whispered quietly and sadly to thin air "…then he scared me with the Foxy mask, and I started to cry."

Christopher saw how Lizzie, who was sitting in front of him, gave him a warm smile. "I'm sorry to hear that Chris." she sighed, "Bryan is a good person, he just doesn't know how to deal with guilt."

"If he's such a good person, why does he keep doing these things to me!" demanded the boy, before turning around in haste when he realized he had spoken a little bit too loud. Luckily, no one bothered to pay enough attention to see that he was talking by himself. Christopher turned around to face his dead sister again and mumbled "At least I have you, Goldie and the rest."

Lizzie looked away, her smile disappearing. "Chris, I'm sorry but you can't count only on us."

"Why not?" asked the worried boy.

The eleven year old girl looked at her brother with pained eyes. "Because this world is real, your problems are real and you're real… but we're not. And you know it."

Reality stabbed the child in the heart like a cold steel dagger. He shook his head and whimpered "B-but… you're real to me. Isn't that enough?"

Putting her hand on the boy's shoulder, Elizabeth whispered with a sorry smile "No Chris. You have to learn to believe in yourself and be brave."

Christopher looked down shamefully when he realized he was beginning to cry again. "I c-can't Lizzie. I tried, I really did… b-but I can't." He quickly wiped away a tear that was growing in the corner of his eye. "I wish you w-were here with me Liz… I miss y-you."

The sound of approaching footsteps immediately silenced Chris. The boy didn't turn around when they stopped right behind him; he already knew who they belonged to.

"Hey hey bro." greeted Bryan with faked happiness, "Time to go home, dinner's waiting."

The younger sibling stood up silently, knowing it was a lie. He followed his brother obediently to the unknown pick-up parked in front of the playground. It was surely the car of a friend of Bryan, who was directly breaking one of the rules his father stated; but Chris didn't really mind the disobedience. After all, his brother became a much more responsible driver after the accident. The younger boy cast a quick look at the spot where his sister had been a second ago, and wasn't surprised to find no one.

As soon as both siblings were inside the pick-up Bryan started up the engine and made a turn to the right, confirming Christopher's fears. "We're not going home, are we?" asked the latter in a weak, flat tone.

"Nope." replied Bryan with an evil smile on his face, "We're going to see your friends!"

* * *

Freddy's was about to close for the day when the two brothers entered through the front door. Chris didn't dare to protest when he saw the place he had been taken to, accepting his face like a piglet being led to the butcher.

"See you later loser!" teased Bryan as he gave his brother a little push inside the hall and slammed the door behind him, trapping the almost nine year old in the place he feared and hated. Christopher looked around the brightly and cheerily painted building while a feeling of nausea welled up inside of him. He sneaked around the hall quietly, peaked into the dining area and immediately regretted doing so.

Fredbear and Spring Bonnie were in the middle of their show on a stage that was swarmed by squealing children, golden mouths and bodies moving incoherently with the sickeningly peppy music. Chris hastily turned away from said sight in fear and pain; the robots reminded him just how fake all of his friends and happiness were. Hit by this reality, the boy broke down in tears once again and crawled under a table in the main hall, giving free flow to his emotions.

After a few minutes, a warm and familiar presence stated flatly "He left without you." The crying child found comfort in Goldie's voice. "He knows that you hate it here."

"B-but what c-can I do?" asked the sobbing boy.

"You are right beside the exit." replied the voice in his head calmly and matter-of-factly, "If you run, you can make it."

"I'm... I'm s-scared Goldie." confessed Christopher in shame.

"C'mon, you have to be brave!" insisted the imaginary friend, "Hurry, run toward the exit."

Taking shaky deep breaths, the child managed to calm himself down enough to crawl from under the table and stand up. With doubtful steps he began to walk toward the dinning area.

"NO! Don't you remember what you saw?" reprimanded Goldie. The boy awoke further from the haze of his fear. After all, seeing the horror of the animatronics few moments ago was the reason he was so afraid right now. "The exit is the other way! Hurry and leave."

Christopher turned around quickly and was about to exit the building, only for an employee in a Fredbear suit to step in between the scared child and the door. "Hey buddy, why are you leaving?" he recited in a grave yet cheery tone, trying to earn his minimum wage, "There's lots of fun and joy here at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza!"

Chris' answer was a shaky, scared whimper. "It's too late." said Goldie's voice ominously, "Hurry the other way and find someone who will help! You know what will happen if he catches you!"

The boy immediately dashed back into the hall, fearing that the author of the bloodbath he had witnessed months ago was hiding inside that happy golden bear. Once again the kid was at the entrance of the dining area where the robotic spectacle was in full swing.

"What now?" asked a terrorized Chris.

"You can find help if you get past them." answered the voice in his head, "You have to be brave".

"Be brave..." repeated the child decidedly, balling his tiny fists, "I can be brave..." The animatronics cast their nightmarish shadows unto a far wall as Chris began to step into the main dining area. Slowly, he sneaked into the wolf's lair, fighting his fear with every step. Suddenly, a huge cold hand laid itself down in his shoulder and the boy turned around to see the fake Fredbear towering over him. The employee's eyes looked down at Chris with genuine happiness, but the child only saw joy to kill. "Now don't be scared buddy!" beamed the man in costume, "I'm not gonna hurt you!"

"NO!" shrieked the boy in terror, ripping himself off the hand's grip and crawling under a table to hide himself from the monster. The confused employee only stood there, seeing how a weeping Christopher grabbed his knees and curled under the table. Shrugging mentally, the costumed man turned around and walked back to the main hall.

"I... I c-can't do _anything_ Goldie!" cried the boy, closing his eyes to stop the tears from flowing, "I can't even w-walk past them!"

"It's okay Chris, you tried." The crying kid felt a warm and furry hand pat his trembling shoulder, "Tomorrow is another day."

"But I d-don't want to wait h-here until t-tomorrow..." he sobbed, "Not again..."

* * *

The quiet darkness of the night threw the boy's imagination into overdrive as he sat under that table, knees against his chest. "Goldie, are you there?" he called out, trying to focus on something else than his growling stomach; he hadn't eaten since the morning.

"Right here Chris!" The child turned his head and saw the image of the golden plushie by his side, "Are you alright?"

"No." muttered the boy bitterly, "I'm locked in here once again because I can't walk past a robot bear and rabbit." Sighing, he buried his head between his knees. "I wish I was with Lizzie."

"C'mon Chris, don't talk like that." whispered Goldie softly, "I'm sure you don't mean it."

"I DO!" snapped the kid suddenly, causing the startled bear to take two steps back. "My parents don't care about me, my brother hates me, my sister is dead, and the only friends I have aren't even _real!"_ Goldie lowered his head, looking at the floor with pained and glistering black eyes. "You know, hearing that hurts." he mumbled sadly.

Ignoring him, Christopher cried out "I have _nothing_ to look forward to, _nothing_ to live for! I. Have. NO ONE!"

Panting, the child listened to the dying echo of his own scream. But when it disappeared it wasn't followed by silence; rather the sound of a heavy footstep that made the eyes of the bear and the boy widen.

Another followed.

Then another.

And another.

The ominous footsteps repeated themselves, getting closer to the pair under the table until whatever they belonged to must've been right in front of the child. Not seeing anything and trying to find a comforting explanation, Chris whispered to himself "It's just my imagination." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, before opening them slowly "It's not rea-"

The child's voice cut off when he saw the _very_ _real_ face of Bonnie right in front of him. The same animatronic rabbit that was covered in blood some months ago was now knelt down in front of the shell-shocked pair, his glowing pink eyes locked right on Christopher's dull brown ones. The air that the paralyzed boy breathed felt cold and heavy, and he forgot completely about the unbearable hunger he was feeling.

Suddenly, the seven-feet-tall robot pushed aside the table Chris was under, and the boy felt unprotected against the monstrous counterpart of the plush toy he called friend. Playground rumors of the animatronics coming to life at night to kill the security guard crossed his mind and awoke him from his trance of terror. The child stood up and sprinted out of there with all he had, down the main hall and to the main entrance… but he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Freddy leaning against the front door.

The huge bear turned his head and blue eyes slowly; his eternal smile seemed to grow just a bit wider when they fell upon the little boy. Baffled, confused and terrorized, Chris immediately ran back to the main hall, past the table and Bonnie and into the dining area. He dodged the tables and chairs as he looked for a place to hide. He ran to the kitchen door like a cast-away to a rescue boat, slammed it open, ran inside and dashed out just as fast when he saw Chica's tall body and purple eyes right in front of him; a flat brown box resting on her yellow hands.

Christopher's heart was beating out of his small chest as he went back to the dining area, only to see Freddy and Bonnie closing in on him from the show stage and the main hall. Whimpering and panting in fear, the boy slowly walked backwards, not taking his eyes off the creatures that protagonized his fears… until he banged his head against something hard and fuzzy. With an open mouth and teary eyes, the boy turned around to see Foxy's red and slender frame inches away from him. With a scream, Chris fell backwards on the floor and crawled away from the yellow-eyed fox. He looked around in terror to see Bonnie nearing from the right, Chica from the left, Freddy from behind and Foxy from the front. Gritting his teeth and closing his eyes with all his strength the boy buried his face in his knees, ready to meet his end when the four animatronics surrounded him in a circle.

But the end didn't come. Not yet, at least.

After a minute or two, Chris slowly opened his teary eyelids to see a metallic hook stretched out in front of him. The child looked up at the fox it belonged to, and the animatronic tilted his head friendly, lowering the hook a bit more. Through his confusion, Chris managed to understand the gesture. He nervously grabbed the cold, bent metal and let Foxy pull him on his feet effortlessly.

The boy looked at the towering figures that surrounded him like it was all a dream, and asked shakily "Are you g-going to k-kill me?"

Now, the animatronics' eyes were the ones that beamed confusion. They shook their heads in perfect unison.

"That's… good I guess." Chris took a deep breath and rubbed the tears out of his eyes. "How can you do this? Are you alive?"

The metallic animals looked at each other for a few seconds. It seemed like they were talking to each other, but no sound would come out. After the silent conversation, Freddy tapped the boy on his shoulder, who then looked up to see the bear put a finger in front of his mouth.

"It's a secret." whispered Christopher, "Is that it? I can't tell anyone?"

The bear nodded, seemingly satisfied with himself and the boy. The brown animatronic then cocked his head at something behind Chris. The kid turned around to see Chica lowering the flat brown box to his height, like she was offering it to him. The tempting aroma of fresh pizza wafted into the boy's nose, causing his empty stomach to growl furiously.

"Is that really for me?" asked a surprised Chris. The yellow animatronic nodded happily and laid the warm cardboard box on the boy's hands. "Uh, t-thanks Chica." he smiled and stuttered, incredulous at what was happening. Looking into her eyes, he noticed that they seemed oddly familiar. But the child shrugged it off as something his mind was taunting him with, and opened the box eagerly. With a watering mouth he grabbed a steaming slice of the meat lover's pizza, his favorite, and devoured it faster than he thought possible. "Mmm! Thmnk ymoum." he moaned happily with a full mouth.

A few minutes later, Christopher was walking out of the pizzeria with the box in his hand, thinking about the management's reaction when they saw the busted lock in the morning. Shrugging it off and licking his fingers, the boy continued his walk home in the dead of the night, with the image of the animatronics replaying over and over in his mind.

"That was weird." he whispered, looking down at Goldie as he walked by his side.

"And weren't you scared?" asked the small golden bear curiously, looking up at his friend.

"At first I was, but not so much now. I mean, I always found them scary because of how fake they looked when they were on stage. This was the first time I've seen them since… that night." The boy shuddered at the memories of the little black-haired girl being murdered in front of him. "I guess that after what happened they couldn't just put them back in the show."

The pair walked on silently for a bit, but Goldie suddenly jumped in front of the boy. "I got an idea!" he beamed, "Why don't you spent the night with them?"

"Why would I do that?" asked Chris.

"When you get home, you'll have to face off Bryan." replied the plushie, "It'll just be another horrible night for you in that house. But you'll be alright with them!"

The boy stopped walking and thought about this for a moment. He found it weird and funny that something imaginary thought of something he'd never come up with; sometimes it seemed as if his friend had a mind of his own.

"That's a good idea." said Chris with a smile, "I can sleep on top of a tablecloth and I won't have to worry about Bryan." He turned around and started to walk back to the pizzeria, while a feeling that he was turning his back on his own home welled up inside of him. Realizing this, the boy added decidedly: "But it will only be for tonight."

"Of course, only for one night." whispered Goldie sinisterly and joyfully, unnoticed by Christopher. "Only for tonight…"


	4. Master of puppets

**A/N:** Hey guys, welcome back and I hope you're having a great weekend. Once again, thank you very much for your reviews, follows and favorites last time; they really are a big motivation. I hope you enjoy this fairly intriguing part of the story, that hopefully will answer some questions but also give you more. And now, happy reading!

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Master of puppets**

"Just a bit more…" whispered an engrossed Chris, pressing another of the arcade's colorful buttons, "Almost there…"

On the black screen, a man-like clump of red, blue and white pixels jumped over another rolling barrel, putting him in front of the last staircase. Smirking with satisfaction, the boy eagerly pushed up the game's lever and made the pixelated figure climb up the ladder to the top beam that housed the raging gorilla. When Christopher could almost taste victory, the blocky beast pushed two barrels one after another down the beam. The boy quickly pressed the machine's jump button and managed to dodge the first barrel, but taken over by his nerves he pressed it again too quickly. The man landed right in front of the barrel, and with a chiptune of defeat, the scene disappeared to be replaced with the dreaded 'Game Over.'

"And I was so close!" muttered Christopher as the title screen reappeared in front of him. He then turned around to face the huge purple figure standing by his side, and boasted with a confident smile "I still beat your highscore though!"

Bonnie made his ears droop down comically, before he gave the child a little thumbs up as a sign of congratulation. Standing behind the rabbit, Freddy, Foxy and Chica imitated the gesture. With a proud grin on his face, Chris turned his back to the arcade, stretched his arms and yawned deeply. He then checked the clock on the wall and was surprised to see that it read 12:05 AM. The boy wondered how time could go so fast since he decided to spend the night in the pizzeria.

"Everything alright Chris?" asked Goldie as he walked up to the boy with a tender smile

"Yeah…" yawned back the child, "But I think it's better to go to sleep." The glowing eyes of the four animatronics dimmed down ever so slightly in sadness, and Christopher couldn't help but feel sorry for them. "I'm not like you guys." he sighed, "I need to sleep every once in a while, and you can't let other people know your secret. You understand that, right?"

Freddy and Foxy nodded reluctantly but obediently, and Bonnie and Chica were quick to imitate their companions. Chris chuckled, finding it funny that the animatronics needed no words to express themselves so well.

After a casual goodbye, the four mechanical mascots were safely hidden backstage. With half closed eyelids and droopy steps, Chris walked back to the darkened main hall with a tablecloth under his arm and his golden friend right behind. All the rooms for parties and staff members were locked, so he'd have to sleep under that same table once again, but the boy didn't really mind this. After a few times, the employees and clients had gotten used to finding him crawled up under the piece of furniture and learned to ignore him completely.

Christopher spread the tablecloth over the floor before laying on top of it. The child rolled sideways to see his beloved golden bear standing in front of him like a guardian angel. "Good night Goldie." yawned Chris with a happy smile, before closing his eyes and whispering "You're a good friend."

"Right back at you Chris!" chirped the plush toy, "Sweet dreams."

With a warm feeling in his chest, the boy twisted and curled a few times before finding a comfortable position and giving himself up to his sleep. After a couple of minutes, his silent and normal breathing had grown long and deep; the child was sleeping soundly.

But he wasn't alone.

With beady black eyes and a sinister smile, Goldie watched the little boy sleep. "You're a good kid Christopher," he whispered sweetly, putting his small paws behind his back. "you really are." The bear's smile disappeared as he began to take slow steps to the child. "And that's why I don't like doing this to you," he sighed, "but it's for your own good."

The plushie stopped right in front of Chris' face; he could feel his warm breath against his furry legs. "You deserve something better than the life you have," continued Goldie, "and I promise you that one day all these horrible memories will seem like nothing more than a bad dream." He brought his paws in front of him, and grinned darkly when he saw them. Tiny razor-sharp screws had sprouted from his fingertips, making them look like the deadly claws of a predator.

Goldie once again stared at the sleeping child mischievously, then started to stretch one of his claws towards his forehead. "But until then…" When the bear opened his mouth to speak, he revealed row after row of knife-like teeth that glistered forebodingly in the lowlight. With a voice that had dropped many octaves to a demonic growl, he crooned "… _I'll have to remind you of the nightmare that's your life!_ "

Chris' peaceful expression changed into one of terror as soon as the creature's claws touched his forehead. The boy started to whimper and groan as nightmares flooded his mind, causing him to twist his head around restlessly. In his dreams he saw his sister's death, the girl's murder, Bryan's bullying and their parents' indifference towards it all. _"You're suffering."_ whispered the nightmarish creature, " _You're getting sick and tired of everything bad that's happening to you."_ Little tears started to roll over the child's cheeks as the horrible memories tortured him more and more. _"Shhh… don't cry now."_ purred the thing, smiling toothily at Chris, _"We're your friends! We care about you Christopher, and we're here for you."_

The crying child seemed to be calming down slightly. With a shaky whisper, he repeated in his sleep "You… f-friends…"

 _"Yes!"_ beamed the creature excitedly, still pressing his claw against the boy's forehead. _"We're good, but the world is bad to you."_

"Y-you good." repeated Chris, "World… b-bad." Allowing more nightmares to take control of the boy's mind the creature finally turned away from him, and with his feral teeth drawn into a triumphant grin, vanished in the darkness. Fresh tears grew in the child's eyes as he whimpered repeatedly "B-bad… world... bad…"

* * *

Squeals of children and cheery music finally woke up Christopher from his uneasy slumber. The boy opened his red and puffy eyes, feeling strangely dizzy. For a moment, he couldn't manage to remember what he was crying about, but then all the bad things that had happened to him came back to his mind and caused new tears to roll on his cheeks.

"Chris?" Goldie stared at his crying friend with worried eyes, and laid a clawless paw on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

After a few deep breaths, the distressed child replied "I'm getting tired of these nightmares Goldie!" he sighed shakily, "And I'm getting tired of _everything!"_

"What do you mean?" asked the plushie.

"I w-wish things were different," sobbed the boy, "I'm tired of l-living this life."

"Don't say that again Chris," hushed the little bear, "we won't let anything bad happen to you."

"W-we?" whimpered the boy.

The plushie chuckled and smiled kindly, this time with a mouth free of terrifying fangs. "I mean the animatronics! You don't think they're your friends?"

"I… I d-don't know." Chris cried further, covering his face with his hands. "I r-really don't."

Realizing that he was asking too many questions for an imaginary friend, the golden bear let the child cry off his feelings for a while, before he whispered gently "You have to get up." Chris ignored him and kept sobbing under the table. "You can get out this time, but you have to hurry." continued Goldie, this time with more urgency in his voice. Christopher took a deep, shaky breath to calm himself down and stood up. Wiping away his tears, he pushed open the building's doors and stepped into the sun-bathed parking lot.

He was immediately greeted by the sight of a brunette boy with blue eyes of around his age. The unknown child was clutching a golden bunny plush close to his chest, seemingly waiting for someone to show up. Chris tried to walk passed him unnoticed, but the other boy was feeling talkative. "Hey, I know you!" called out the blue-eyed child, stopping Christopher in his tracks, "You _always_ carry that plushie with you, right? Where is your plush toy?"

Sighing, Chris turned around to face the overly-cheerful boy. "I couldn't bring him with me today." he mumbled uneasily, anxious to get away from him.

"Oh, and who is he?" asked the other boy with an irritatingly peppy voice.

"Fredbear." was Chris' awkward answer.

"Mine is Spring Bonnie." The child beamed as he stretched out the golden bunny at Christopher. "My Daddy says I have to be careful with him or I will pinch my finger. He is a finger trap, he says." Apparently happy after showing off his toy, the blue-eyed boy went back to admiring it. Chris took this as his opportunity to leave and exited the pizzeria's parking lot with hasty steps.

He was about halfway to his house, when he passed by another small girl with fiery orange hair twisted into twin pony tails. Her light green eyes widened with recognition as Chris walked pass her. "Aren't you the kid that spends the nights at the pizzeria sometimes?!" she blurted out excitedly. The boy only answered with a silent nod. "You'd better watch out!" whispered the girl, trying to sound scary. "I hear they come to life at night." Chris sighed; it seemed like that animatronics' secret was becoming showbiz.

"If they see you, they'll catch you and stuff you inside a spare suit." continued the redhead, "And if you die, they hide your body and never tell anyone." Christopher's brown eyes widened in fear; those rumors couldn't be true. The animatronics had been friendly and protective to him, so surely there was no way they could hurt anyone. But the boy still wondered if there was some truth in the girl's macabre gossips. "Why do you look so worried?" she teased, "See you at the party! Ha ha ha!"

Chris walked away, confused as to what party the unknown girl was talking about. He was almost home when a tall boy, who seemed to be slightly younger than Bryan, walked past him. The teenager stopped immediately and pointed at the boy with a surprised expression. "Aren't you the kid who always hides under the table and cries?" The smaller boy looked away in shame as the teen let out a loud, mocking laugh, putting his hand on his forehead. "Hahaha! No one else is scared! Why are you? Stop being such a baby!"

Turning around and wiping off his tears in shame, Christopher stomped away from the young man. "He's right." he sighed, looking down at Goldie, "I shouldn't be scared of the golden robots."

"That's okay." said the bear softly, "I'm sure you'll get over that fear _very_ soon."

The boy huffed in disbelieve. "I wish."

It wasn't long before the pair came upon a chubby boy holding a balloon. "Hey you!" called out the round-bellied child, "Are you going to the party? Everyone is going to the party."

"What party?" asked Chris curiously.

The balloon boy opened his mouth to answer, but he shut it quickly when he recognized who he was talking to. "Oh wait, you have to go! It's YOUR birthday! Haha!"

Growling lowly, Christopher walked away from the child with big, angry strides. "Bryan told everyone!" he muttered angrily at Goldie, "He really hates me, doesn't he?"

The brightly colored plush shrugged. "I'm afraid he does."

After less than a minute the bear and the boy arrived at their house's doorstep. Finding the door unlocked, Chris quickly slipped inside the building that felt familiar, but not homely. An ominous silence filled the Atwell's elegant residence, and the boy knew immediately that something wasn't right.

"Be careful." warned Goldie. Chris nodded and checked the house for any signs of his brother, but found nothing more than silence. He finally walked into his room after a few minutes, eager to sleep on his own bed and forget about everything for a while. The boy had his back turned to the bed when he felt two huge hands clamp down on his shoulders, and screaming, turned around to face the same monster with Foxy's head as last time. His young mind had no time to process what was happening when the beast screamed a blood-curling scream in his face, and the boy fell backwards, crying in fear.

Chuckling and shaking his head, Bryan once again took off the mask he made from the head of the Foxy plush toy. "Hey hey loser, long time no see!" he cackled, looking at his little brother with an air of superiority. "I thought you were with your friends!"

"L-leave me alone…" begged Chris as he cried helplessly on the cold floor, "Please… j-just leave me a-alone."

The older sibling let out a wide smile. "Sure, I'll leave you alone." he cooed darkly, putting his hand on his chin, "And I know exactly where I'll do it."

* * *

Bryan brought his friend's pick-up to a halt inside Freddy's parking lot and pushed open the driver's door. "Well, time to get out!" he said cheerily as he stepped out of the car. Christopher followed him reluctantly but obediently through the same parking lot that he walked on half an hour ago. The older brother made sure to have a good hold on Chris' arm as the two entered the pizzeria, but he let go of it when he saw a security guard in front of them. Bryan walked toward the man, bumped into him, apologized cordially and grabbed Chris' arm again. "Well, you said you wanted to be alone, didn't you?" The older brother smiled darkly at the little boy.

"No… not here, please!" whimpered the child with a broken voice.

"I'm sorry lil' bro, but you should've said _where_ you wanted me to leave you alone _."_ Bryan led his sibling through the main hall until they were in front of the red doors that led to the service room. The 19 year old glanced around the hall nervously, but found no security cameras or costumers. Smiling, he took out the set of keys he had pickpocketed from the guard, and after a few tries managed to find the right one to open the door. The two brothers were greeted by the sight of spare animatronic suits, endoskeletons, heads and parts that made the room a bizarre and macabre spectacle straight out of a haunted mansion or independent horror movie.

"Enjoy your time alone!" laughed Bryan, pushing Chris inside the room and locking the door before the child even had a chance to turn around. The small boy felt the wall with his hands and managed to find the light switch. He flicked it up, and immediately felt sick and horrified by the disembodied heads and limbs of Fredbear and Spring Bonnie that littered the place.

Bitter tears sprouted from Chris' eyes as he leaned his small body against the door. "Please let me out." he whimpered softly, knocking against the door; but no one heard him. The boy started to bang his fist against the wood and shouted "PLEASE!" with a broken, raspy voice; but the constant music and screams drowned out his pleas. Finally, after minutes of useless cries for help, the boy let his body slump sideways weakly as a puddle of tears grew between his cheek and the cold floor. "…please let me out…"

Once again, the child saw a golden blur standing protectively by his side. With a sorry smile, Goldie soothed gently "Tomorrow is another day."

Chris nodded. "My b-birthday."

* * *

The room became colder, darker and quieter as the hours dragged by painfully slow. With little salty crusts on his face and an expression of sadness, Chris slept uneasily on the dirty floor. Goldie sighed as he looked at the little kid. He had suffered a lot today, more than intended, but the worst was yet to come. However, he was confident that it would all be worth it at the end. "Everything will be better soon Christopher." cooed the plushie, smiling a mouthful of fangs at the sleeping child, "Your family is waiting for you. _My_ family is waiting for you."

Having said that, the small figure disappeared from view, right as the door's lock shattered under an inhuman amount of force. Chris was startled awake and rubbed his eyes to see four pairs of glowing blue, purple, pink and yellow orbs looking mercifully at him from the main hall. Without saying a word, the child burst in tears as he walked to the animatronics. The metal animals gently scooted him away from the horrors of the service room, in the opposite direction of the dark purple figure outside that leered at the spectacle through a window.

"Well done." said the killer with satisfaction, "You prepared him well. He's not even afraid of them anymore."

"Thank you Mr. Yoska." beamed a young voice next to the man. "I think everything is ready for tomorrow."

"And what about the brother?" asked the man in purple as the invisible thing's presence started to go away.

"Don't worry about that." replied the voice with a playful chuckle, "I'm going to pay him a visit now." And with a blast of chilly air, the thing blasted away from the pizzeria towards the Atwell's house.

* * *

 **A/N:** Right now, you might be feeling a bit confused, specially regarding Goldie's character. Don't worry guys, hopefully it'll all be clear at the end. See you at the party!


	5. The party

**A/N:** Well guys, here we go again. I think you all know what's coming, or you _think_ you know what's coming. Either way, this is a pretty intense chap that was quite challenging but very interesting to write. Nevertheless, I truly hope you enjoy it, but before you begin I highly advice you to reread the very last parts of chapter 2 and 4 so you'll understand this better. Come back when you're done.

Oh, you're back already. I assume you reread what I mentioned before, right? Excellent! As always, let me know if you spotted an error and happy reading!

* * *

 **Chapter 5: The party**

It was midmorning at the Atwell household, and Bryan was lazily staring at the TV on the couch, but he wasn't watching it. If he had, he would've realized that the local network was primiering the second episode of Fredbear and Friends, another clever advertising tool by Fazbear Entertainment to make children flock to their establishment. However, the 19 year old was so deep in his thoughts that the brightly colored cartoon animals didn't register in his brain at all.

He pondered on why he had locked his little brother in the service room. Sure, he had abandoned him in the pizzeria a few times before, but this time he asked himself if he was taking things too far. If they were here to see this, his parents would've been disappointed. Lizzie would've been disappointed.

"No!" hissed Bryan angrily at himself, "Don't think about her again you idiot!" But he already was, and he already had little tears in the corners of his eyes. Sighing, he wiped them away. He never intended to take things this far. When did he lose control over his actions, and when did he come up with the foolish idea that making his little brother's life miserable would help make him feel better? He was a prankster by nature, all his friends knew that, but what he was doing to Christopher was downright bullying.

"Lizzie would've been disappointed." he repeated to himself in a quiet, weak whisper. He closed his eyes as he leaned further back against the couch. Today, July 23th, was Christopher's birthday. Bryan couldn't believe his little brother was nine years old already. He still remembered the day he was born like it was yesterday, how he laughed and smiled when he saw Chris for the first time, how his family's eyes watered with happiness as the newborn fell asleep into the arms of his ten year old brother, and how he promised to keep him safe.

Bryan smiled nostalgically at the happy memories. What had happened? It was his fault, and no one else's, that his family was falling apart. He wondered if he could ever fix what he had broken, assuming that was even possible. The young man thought about this for a while. Chris was surely at the pizzeria, most likely still trapped inside that terrifying spare parts room. Bryan shook his head in disbelief and realized just how careless, irresponsible and wrong he had been. He would borrow his friend's car, drive there, get Chris out and offer him the only things that could begin to fix their broken friendship: an apology, a promise and a hug.

Bryan smiled. This would be his birthday present for his brother.

Suddenly, a blast of chilly air entered the room and swallowed the young man. He looked around the house, but none of the doors or windows were open and the airconditioning was off. The cold was unnaturally strong and seemed to linger around him for a few seconds, almost like it had a mind of its own. Then, just as fast as it came, the strangely chilly air sent a shiver down Bryan's spine before it disappeared into nothing.

As it did, the older sibling thought once more about how he'd make things up with Christopher, but he let out a chuckle at the ridiculous idea. After all, he _loved_ to see that crybaby's pathetic and teary face whenever he pranked him. Bryan laughed fondly when he remembered Chris coming home to see him wearing the head of the Foxy plush. The image of his little brother's terrified and tear-stained face gave the young man a rush of excitement that was quickly followed by a flash of inspiration. Bryan smirked evilly as an idea began to grow inside his head, pushing aside all thoughts of reconciliation. Filled with enthusiasm, he quickly pushed himself up from the couch, walked speedily to the phone on the table, dialed the number of one of his friends and put the receiver against his ear.

"Hello?" greeted the young voice at the other end of the line, before letting out a tired yawn.

"Uhh, hello? Hey hey Lloyd, it's Bryan. Listen, are you doing anything today?"

"No." replied Lloyd tiredly, "Why are you asking?"

"I'd like to pull off a little prank on Chris at Fazbear's. Are you in?"

A brief silence followed, before Lloyd let out a sigh and replied "Fine. I'll meet you there in an hour."

"Uhh, can you give me more time?" asked Bryan, "I have to get a few things ready. Two hours is alright with you?"

"Sure." muttered Lloyd.

"Also, call Alec and Ivan. We'll need them in this."

"Whatever man. But can you please tell me what you're doing this time?"

With a small fear that he might decline, Bryan revealed his plan to an attentive Lloyd, but after a minute of explanation the latter only asked "And where are you going to get the masks from?"

Bryan's lips curled into a mischievous grin. "That's why I need the two hours. So, you're in?"

Lloyd chuckled. "Why the hell not? I'll call over Ivan and Alec and tell them. We'll meet you there."

"Alright. See you on the flip side." And with that, Bryan hung up the phone before dashing to the kitchen. He hastily opened up the first drawer and took out the biggest bread cutting knife he could find. Tightening his grip on the handle, the young man then walked towards Christopher's room with big strides, unable to hide his excited grin as he opened the door and cast his shadow over the Freddy, Bonnie, Chica and Foxy plush toys.

The butchery that followed was similar to a brutal murder. Bits of stuffing, thread, and colored fabric littered the floor as Bryan beheaded the brown, yellow and red plushies with the serrated knife. Goldie didn't suffer the same fate only because Bryan didn't want to get more people involved in the prank.

The young man worked his lifeless victims with an enthusiasm and concentration that bordered obsession. Finally, after an hour and a half, he had three new masks in front of him. He grabbed them and got his own mask out of a drawer in his room. Ivan, Alec and Lloyd could use whatever mask they wanted, but he was not changing his Foxy persona for anything. After all, he was always Bryan's favorite. Now all he had to do was reserve the dining area using the money that his father had given him for emergencies so they wouldn't have to worry about anyone snitching on them.

Bryan smiled. This would be his birthday present for his brother.

* * *

Meanwhile, Chris was walking up and down the Main Hall aimlessly, having silent conversations with Goldie as midday approached in the quiet and mostly empty pizzeria. The boy was too scared to go into the dining area where the show with Fredbear and Spring Bonnie was about to start, but he definitely didn't want to go to his house. The employees regularly going inside the backstage meant that he couldn't hide in there with the animatronics that had taken care of him during the night.

Christopher stopped walking abruptly and sat down on the floor, next to the hall's table. "Nobody cares Goldie." he mumbled to himself as he lowered his head, "Nobody cares that it's my birthday. Not my dad, not my mom, not Bryan... no one."

The golden bear smiled sadly at the child, and whispered gently "I care Chris. That's why I got this for you." Still smiling, he put his paw behind his back for a moment and brought it back to the front, only this time holding a tiny cupcake with a single lit candle. He held the cupcake in front of the surprised child. "Go on, make a wish."

Chris smiled weakly at his imaginary friend, and whispered after a thoughtful silence "I wish I could have a family that cared for me." He blew on the candle, and saw the flame die as a wisp of smoke rose into the air.

Goldie's smile suddenly took on a darker appearance. "I thought you'd say something like that Chris." he stated matter-of-factly, "Your wish is granted."

As if on cue, the main doors opened, revealing four tall black silhouettes against the sharp midday sun. Chris squinted to see who they were, and felt his heart drop when he saw his brother wearing the mask made out of the Foxy plush, followed by three of his friends. The child realized with horror that they too had masks made out of his other toys.

"Hey hey loser!" cackled Bryan, "Happy birthday!"

"No…" whimpered Chris, looking up at the four teenagers that surrounded him as he burst out in tears, "M-my friends… you b-broke my f-friends!" With misery, anger and grief, the child clutched unto one of the table's legs as his weak crying turned into a desperate weeping. "THEY W-WERE MY F-FRIENDS YOU M-MONSTER!"

Lloyd, who was wearing the Bonnie mask, looked with disgust at the heartbroken boy. "Wow, your brother is kind of a baby, isn't he?" he sneered.

"It's hilarious…" replied Bryan cruelly, "Why don't we help him get a closer look at his friends! He will love it!"

With a face covered in tears, Chris looked pleadingly at his brother and shook his head rapidly. "No! Please!"

"Come on guys, let's give the little man a lift." laughed Bryan, ignoring his sibling's cries, "He wants to get up close and personal!"

The small boy groaned in pain as Lloyd and Bryan grabbed him roughly by his arms. "Let me go!" he screamed, wriggling and squirming uselessly against the steely grip of the two older teens. Soon, he was being carried into the dining area, followed closely by Alec and Ivan who were wearing the Chica and Freddy masks. Chris realized with horror where he was being taken to. "No! I don't want to go!"

"You heard the little man!" grinned Bryan, "He wants to get even closer!" Thanks to the reservation, the dining area was completely empty as the four laughing bullies and the crying child made their way towards the show stage. Soon, all five were front Fredbear and Spring Bonnie, both performing a song for a nonexistent audience.

"Hey guys," Bryan looked at the other masked figures, and gave them the final cue, "I think the little man said he wants to give Fredbear a big kiss! "On THREE!"

"One…"

Chris' teary brown eyes widened in fear as he felt how the other two bullies grabbed him by his feet. He kicked and squirmed even more, but it was useless.

"Two…"

While he was being raised to the golden bear's huge jaws that opened and closed without any kind of rhythm, the child tried to scream, but he choked up on his own tears. He spat and coughed miserably as the two rows of round cartoonish teeth came closer and closer.

"THREE!"

With a final push, the four young men put Christopher deep into Fredbear's mouth until only his legs and waist were dangling from the animatronic. They laughed as the boy tried to escape the golden jaws that locked him in place, kicking and twisting hopelessly.

"P-please!" begged Chris one last time, twisting his head around to look at the four masked teens, "It h-hurts! Please l-let me g-go!" The boy's stuttered filled up with more despair as he tried to push open the robotic mouth.

"Alright guys, time for a special song!" called out Bryan, standing next to his three laughing friends. "One, two, three!"

While the trapped boy kept on crying and struggling, the four masked friends chorused in a cheery mocking tune: " _Happy birthday to you!_ "

"S-stop!" wailed Chris as his tears rolled down Fredbear's mouth. "Stop it, p-please!"

" _Happy Birthday to you!_ "

"Why?" asked the boy in a weak, broken whimper, "What d-did I d-do to y-you?" His tears were slowly seeping into the animatronic's mechanisms as he kept on crying and the bullies kept on laughing.

" _Happy Birthday dear Christopher,_ "

With his head stuck between Fredbear's teeth and his tears reaching the spring lock failsafe, Chris felt his blood boil with a wrath he had never known before. "Bryan…" he whispered coldly, before roaring with all his fury: "I HATE YOU! YOU HEAR ME?! I HATE YOU!"

" _Happy_ _…"_

"I!"

 _"_ _birthday_ _…"_

"HATE!"

" _to_ _…_ "

With a single high-pitched metallic _click,_ the safety spring locks finally snapped loose.

"YOU!"

And with a sickening _CRACK_ the metallic bear's jaws crushed Chris' skull, silencing everyone in the room. The four shocked teens saw how crimson streams sprouted from what was left of the unmoving boy's head, drooped down Fredbear's golden fur and fell on the floor. For almost a minute, everything seemed to have stopped. More blood trickled down Chris' face as he opened his eyes one last time to look at his brother and his friends, whose masks couldn't hide away the horror that beamed from their eyes. The child could barely see another figure standing behind the four teens; a boy of about his age with an unnaturally pale face and rosy cheeks, with a black and slender body that smiled a satisfied and hollow smile at the morbid scene.

Then, Chris felt himself fall into an endless void as his eyes slowly closed down, and he was swallowed by darkness. But not before seeing that the mysterious boy was holding Goldie in his hands.

* * *

Bryan took a slow step towards his little brother, who hung limply from the animatronic's mouth. "Chris?" he whispered quietly.

Silence.

"C-can you hear me lil' bro?"

Silence.

The older son's voice was beginning to crack up with anguish and fear. "Please, _please_ say something!"

Silence. Then, the sound of the dining area's doors opening was heard. The four friends turned around to see a tall, lean man in purple uniform standing at the doorway, looking with horror at the scene. "What have you done?" he demanded in a shaky voice filled with fear.

"W-we…" started Alec, taking of the Chica mask, "we j-just…"

Bryan took a step towards the man and opened his mouth to confess, but Lloyd held him back. "We just wanted to play a hide and seek game with the kid," said the latter, making it sound like the absolute truth as he took off his Bonnie mask, "but he tried to hide inside Fredbear's mouth, and…" he put on a dramatic face of sorrow, "and we couldn't do anything."

Without asking more questions the man ran towards Chris, who was quickly bleeding out between the jaws of the animatronic. "One of you, tell the manager what happened and call 911!" he ordered. Ivan nodded and ran out of the room. Not wasting any time, the employee climbed up the stage and used all his strength to try to open the bear's mouth, but to no avail. Bryan rapidly dashed to his side and slowly pushed both jaws apart with the combined strength of his adrenaline, muscles and the employee. The older brother caught a glimpse of the man's nameplate that read 'Benedict Yoska'.

With a final effort, the two at last opened Fredbear's mouth enough for Chris to roll unto Bryan's hands like a blood-covered ragdoll. With quivering hands and teary eyes, the young man held his little brother in his arms like he had done nine years ago, but without any of the joy and happiness that he felt back then. When he tried to put a hand under the boy's head he felt how broken pieces of skull shifted and sunk under the pressure. But against all expectations, he also noticed something while he was holding Chris' neck: a weak yet steady pulse.

"He's alive." whispered Bryan as his eyes filled with tears, "He's still alive!"

Benedict looked at him in disbelief as they both slowly stepped down the stage. "That's… fantastic." he said flatly, "Take good care of him while the ambulance arrives kiddo. I'll try to find the technician."

Bryan nodded as the tall man walked back towards the golden mascots, stepped up the stage and entered the backstage area where the four other animatronics were slumped down against a wall. As soon as he felt safe, he hissed at an empty corner with irritation: "He was supposed to die! Nothing will work if he's not dead!"

"I'm sorry Mr. Yoska." mumbled a young voice uneasily, "But don't worry, he'll be with us very soon."

"I hope so." Benedict walked in circles around the backstage area anxiously as he thought of a solution to the unforeseen setback. He then turned around to face a boy of around Christopher's age in the corner where the voice had come from; a slender boy with a pale face and black body that looked down at the floor in mild embarrassment.

After a minute or two, the man in purple stopped walking abruptly and looked at the boy with a sly grin. "You're always stronger between midnight and sunrise, that's when you could give him the nightmares, right?" he asked.

"R-right." stuttered back the figure.

"And you can make those nightmares really… strong, right?"

"Uh, yes."

Benedict's smile grew ever so slightly. "Strong enough to kill someone in his sleep?"

The boy stayed silent for a few seconds, before looking at the man and nodding decidedly.

"Well then…" The killer let out a dark giggle as he looked at an empty space between the four animatronics, "Let's make our dear child's birthday wish real."

* * *

 **A/N:** One more chap to go...


	6. Sweet dreams

**A/N:** Okay guys, here we go: the last main chap of the fic and boy it was difficult to write. Have any of you ever felt that you know _what_ you want to say, but don't know _how_ to say it? Yup, that was me here.

Something I forgot to mention last time is that I recommend you to check out MrCreepyPasta's FNaF 4 Hidden Lore narration, since it fits eerily well with last chap's 'incident'. Also, that wasn't entirely Bryan's fault. You'll see what I mean soon enough. Until then, happy reading...

* * *

 **Chapter 6: Sweet dreams**

"Chris, wake up!"

The boy grunted and rolled on the bed, ignoring the familiar and urgent girlish voice. He simply felt too exhausted to move.

"C'mon, I don't have much time!"

Once again, the child replied with an annoyed grumble as he crawled further up the soft covers. Snuggling his head against a pillow, he stayed still and waited for sleep to take him away with a comfortable smile on his face.

The voice sighed, before stating forebodingly "Alright then, you asked for it."

Christopher yelped in surprise and disapproval when he felt how the covers -and him- were pulled away from the bed unto the hard blue carpet. The child groaned as he rolled a few times on the floor before coming to a stop. "Couldn't I have five more minutes?" he muttered sleepily, rubbing his closed eyes and putting himself on his knees.

"You haven't changed a bit, have you?" chuckled the girl's voice.

Chris finally opened his eyes, but was unable to believe who he was seeing sitting in front of him.

Lizzie smiled sheepishly at her little brother. "Uh, it's been a while." she mumbled uneasily, failing in her attempt to sound casual. "So, uh, you've grown quite a b-"

She was cut off by her sibling's tackle that soon turned into a rib-breaking hug. "It's… it's you Liz." he whispered in disbelief, leaning his head on her shoulder, "It's really you." After recovering from the surprise, Elizabeth slowly wrapped her arms around her brother's back. Both siblings remained in the silent and loving embrace for a while, overjoyed to be reunited.

After almost a minute, Lizzie gently pulled the boy away. "I'm so sorry Chris." she sighed, "Do you remember what happened?"

Her brother nodded, before whispering matter-of-factly "I'm dead now, aren't I?"

"Well… not exactly." replied the girl in an unsure tone.

Christopher stared at her with surprise. "So, I'm still alive?"

Lizzie gave out another sheepish smile. "Umm, not exactly either." The boy furrowed his eyebrows as his sister shoved herself closer to him to start her explanation. "You're right on the edge between life and death Chris, a kind of deep coma so to say. Your body isn't ready to die, but at the same time it's too hurt to function properly. I'm… I'm sorry."

Confused, the boy looked around at the strange yet somehow familiar room. A closet was imbedded on the wall in front of the bed, guarded closely by a few toys. Two doors on the left and the right lead to dark, seemingly eternal corridors. The style of the furniture, walls, doors and ceiling were identical to the Atwell's house, but the layout of the room itself was different from anything Chris recognized.

"Where am I?" he whispered in awe, inspecting his surroundings.

"This is a place that your mind created out of familiar things, but that's different from anything in the real world." explained Lizzie, "That's how we usually see things in dreams." The girl checked the digital clock on top of a drawer next to the closet and realized that it would be midnight in five minutes. She turned around to face her brother and laid both hands on his shoulders. "Chris, I need you to listen to me." she said seriously, "Bad things are coming your way."

"What kind of bad things?" asked the child.

"Something or someone is trying to use your worst nightmares to kill you here, in your dreams. Whatever appearance this thing or person takes, you _cannot_ let him catch you."

"Or what?" interrupted Chris nervously.

Lizzie stared at her brother with pained eyes, and replied flatly "Or your heart will stop beating." After a few seconds of heavy silence she reached for something behind her and brought a plain flashlight to the front. "Nightmares are scared of the light." she said with a small smile, handling the flashlight to the boy. "That's why you never get them if you leave a nightlight on."

Christopher clenched the flashlight tightly in his hand as he looked down at it with anger. "This is all Bryan's fault." he hissed bitterly, "If it wasn't for him, none of this would've happened."

"I don't think he did it on purpose Chris." said Elizabeth softly, "Yes, he's not the most responsible older brother in the world, but do you really believe he would try to kill you?"

The boy raised his fiery gaze to his sister, and shouted with clenched fists: "Well, he killed _you!_ "

When Lizzie looked back at her little brother she saw something that she had never seen before in those chestnut-colored eyes: pure and raw hate that chilled her to the core. "It was an accident!" she countered immediately, "It took me a while, but I learned to understand that and forgive him. I had to! And if I can do it, you can do it." She took the child's hands as her voice became low and pleading. "I'm begging you Chris, do not let that grudge and anger you're feeling right now get the best of you. Alright?"

Christopher stayed still and silent for a moment, but ended up nodding at her sister with slightly calmer eyes. "Alright." he sighed slowly.

"That's more like the little brother I know." The girl smiled tenderly at her sibling one last time before pulling him into a tight hug. "I wish I could help you Chris, but I can't stay here any longer." she whispered in his ear, fighting back the need to cry. "Good luck." Sighing, she slowly broke the embrace.

As she stood up, Chris watched her walk away to the left corridor. "Liz, please don't go!" he begged, "I miss you! I… I don't want to live without you!"

Standing at the doorframe, Elizabeth stopped and turned around to see her brother with moist and shiny eyes. "I'll be with you as long as you remember me." she replied softly as a tear rolled down her cheek. "Hopefully we'll see each other again, but not in a long, _long_ time." She smiled feebly at the boy, and he returned the smile. "I love you Chris. Never forget that." Wiping her eyes, she stepped into the darkness of the hallway, leaving the boy with a flashlight in his hands and tears on his face.

A few moments later, some church bells boomed gravely in the distance twelve times. Shortly after, heavy footsteps were heard coming from the inky blackness of the hallways. Wiping his tears, Christopher clenched the flashlight tightly and ran to the left door. There was no time to mourn his loneliness.

The first night had just started.

* * *

Bryan took off his backpack as he approached the small figure that laid motionlessly on the hospital bed. A white blanket covered everything below his waist, while a couple of tubes and wires sprouted from his hands and arms. His whole head was covered in bandages, except his mouth and nose that were imprisoned in the mouthpiece of a breathing machine. Next to his bed, an IV drip stood in front of a small nightstand that housed a vase of flowers, a flask of pills and spare bandages and syringes.

"Uh, hey hey lil' bro." started Bryan uneasily as he sat down next to the bed. "Umm, I just wanted to say that Mom and Dad are coming soon to be with you." The young man remembered the conversation between him and his parents. Although he had told them that it was an accident, something in the tone of his father's voice made it clear that he knew better.

"I don't know what you're going through right now." continued the older brother, "And I don't know if you can understand anything I say, but if you can… I didn't mean to do this to you." He sighed as he covered his face with his hands, and started sobbing after a few seconds. "I w-wanted to make things up w-with you Chris, I really d-did. But something j-just took over m-me and m-made me do this!" Bryan shook his head, remembering the strange cold air that he felt yesterday morning. Then, he let out a sad chuckle. "That's r-ridiculous, isn't it? It was all my f-fault… Everything was m-my fault."

The young man took a deep breath, uncovered his face, wiped the tears off his eyes and said with a calmer voice "Anyways, I… I have something for you." He grabbed his backpack, opened it and gently pulled out the Chris' Fredbear plushie. "I know how much you love this thing, and I figured you'd need some company, so… here it is." Standing up, the older brother carefully nestled the small golden bear against the boy's arm with a smile on his face. "Well, a nurse is about to come here, so I better get going. I'll see you tomorrow Chris."

Bryan was about to walk out of the room, when he felt the sudden need to say one last thing to his little brother. He turned around slowly to face the figure on the bed, and whispered softly "Believe it or not, I don't hate you. You were right when you said that I hated myself, and I do, now more than ever. But I promise you that I'll make it all up somehow. I'll buy you new toys and tell Mom and Dad that it was my fault and never prank you again... just please, _please_ don't die."

* * *

Panting and wheezing, Christopher ran to the right door once more. He slowly opened it and listened carefully. For two seconds there was silence, but then a faint and raspy breathing sound was heard coming from the darkness. The boy quickly closed the door and leaned his shoulder against it, praying with closed eyes that the monster on the other side would leave him alone. Eventually, heavy mechanical footsteps were heard walking away down the corridor.

For the past seven nights, the child had repeated this hellish routine with the incarnation of his worst nightmares. The five animatronics he was facing were terrifying creatures straight out of his deepest fears, with rows of knife-like teeth that smiled perpetually at him from the dark, and hands and feet that were nearly overflowing with huge metallic claws. And of course, they were all out to get him.

Chris wondered how time went by in this nightmare compared to the real world. After all, there was no day here. As soon as the clock beeped announcing that it was 6 AM, another night quickly followed, and the boy was back to running around the room as he tried desperately to stay alive.

So when the glowing red numbers of the clock read 4:00 and everything went quiet, the child felt relief. There were neither steps nor flickering of lights, just silence. However, the peace was broken by a dark, cold and sinister laugh that seemed to come from all around the boy.

" _Why are you avoiding us Christopher?_ _"_ thundered a nightmarish voice in a faked sad tone, " _I thought we were your friends._ _"_

With hands that shook intensely, Chris held on to the flashlight as he ran to the left door. He opened and shone his light into the red eyes and charcoal black body of a smiling, torn up animatronic bear with a golden top hat and bowtie. The beast was the epitome of the boy's fear, and everything about it seemed to spell one thing: death.

Chris screamed and slammed the door shut, waiting for the demon to walk away. It was then that he realized that none of the Nightmares, as he had been calling them, seemed to be able to talk. "Wh-what are y-you?" stammered the terrified child.

The voice chuckled. " _I_ _'_ _m you, dear Christopher. I am the fear and hate that has spawned from your own heart._ _I am not_ a _nightmare. I_ am _Nightmare._ _"_

The boy realized that the demonic growl was coming from behind him. He spun around and flashed his light on the bed, where the head of the monster was resting on top of the covers. Its fangs formed an evil grin before the thing disappeared into thin air.

"Go away!" cried out Chris in anger and horror as he ran to the right door.

" _Nightmares lurk inside your mind_ _…_ _now no place is safe to hide!_ _"_ replied Nightmare cheerily, " _You have nowhere to run, so why not join the fun?_ _"_

When the boy checked the hallway, he found no signs of the monster. A small yet welcome relief came over him.

" _Too slow Christopher._ _"_ taunted Nightmare's voice right behind him, _"_ _Too. Slow._ _"_

The child dropped his flashlight when he felt a sharp, unbearable pain in his torso. He slowly looked down to see a single metallic claw piercing through his chest, along with his own terrified face and two glowing red orbs that the shiny metal reflected. Chris felt his body go numb as the claw was slowly pulled out of his body. Strangely, there was no blood or pain as the boy fell on the floor.

 _"_ _There we go dear Christopher._ _"_ cooed Nightmare, " _Your pain and suffering will soon be nothing more than a bad memory._ _"_ The child was slowly and weakly dragging his body across the floor in front of the demon, growling in pain as he reached out for the flashlight before him. It was then that a monstrous hand wrapped itself around his ankle. Chris felt his last ounces of strength leave his body as he was dragged away from the flashlight, through the coarse carpet of the room and into the opposite hallway. Through his fading vision, he saw how the warm light of the room got further and further away from him.

"I'm sorry Lizzie." whispered Chris weakly, "I'm sorry."

" _Now, there is only one thing left for you to do._ _"_ Nightmare roughly grabbed the child by his head, and forced him to look at his blood-red eyes and feral teeth that seemed to glow in the blackness of the hallway. " _Now, dear Christopher, you must_ die."

As the demon said those words, the eyes of the boy closed slowly and tiredly. His hand trembled slightly when he tried to raise it, but it ended up falling limply to his side. His head rolled sideways on top of Nightmare's claw as everything faded away.

* * *

Bryan was startled awake by a weak groan coming from his brother's hospital bed. One week had passed since he returned the Fredbear plushie to Christopher, and now he was moaning and gasping slightly under his prison of bandages. The older brother realized that his heartbeat monitor was going crazy, beeping furiously when the younger brother suddenly fell silent.

"Can you hear me?" asked Bryan in a weak whimper as he came next to Chris' bed. "I don't know if you can hear me." Two tiny tears fell from his face unto the boy's barely moving chest as he took his brother's small hand into his. "If you can, I just wanted to say that… I'm sorry."

"…I'm sorry."

Bryan's voice echoed like a ghost through the dark void that surrounded Christopher. He was on his knees, crying uncontrollably out of hate towards his brother and misery towards himself. "T-this is it," he whimpered, "I'm going t-to die cold and a-alone."

"Not really." replied a warm and familiar voice close to the child. Chris raised his teary eyes to see all his plushies, his friends, sitting in front of him. Goldie was at the front, smiling lovingly at the boy.

"You're broken." continued the small golden bear in a sympathetic voice. As he said those words, Christopher watched helplessly how Foxy melted away into the darkness. "We are still your friends." The crying child sobbed more as Chica disappeared into thin air in front of him. "Do you still believe that?" asked Goldie, with a certain hope and expectancy in his voice.

Chris stayed silent for a moment, before replying a shaky but decidedly "Y-yes. You a-are." As he did, the Bonnie plush toy followed his companions when he too faded away slowly; a memory being eaten away by death.

"Whatever happens," continued Goldie in a gentle voice, "I'm still here." He took the crying child's hands into his paws while Freddy was consumed by darkness behind the two, and smiled tenderly. "And I promise you Chris, that I'll put you back together."

The boy's brown eyes grew wide in fear when his best friend began to disappear in front of him. "No… NO!" he cried desperately, "Please, d-don't go." The soft golden paws that he was holding in his hand became more and more translucent with each second, until they too faded away. "Don't go…" Goldie smiled one last time, and vanished like dust in the wind, leaving the child alone in the dark.

Chris bowed his head and balled his fists as the tears fell faster from his eyes. He remembered his sister's loving smile, and wondered if he'd ever see her again. Maybe it would be better that way, he thought, maybe it'd better if he just let it all go.

As these thoughts raced through his mind, his small figure started to wane and fade. But he was no longer afraid of death, rather hateful of his life full of loss and loneliness.

"Yes." he whispered quietly to himself with a sad smile on his face. "Maybe it'd be better this way." With those last words, the boy's figure finally disappeared, and for a while everything was just darkness and silence.

* * *

"Please, don't go." cried Bryan, holding on to his little brother's cold hand as the heart monitor flat-lined. "P-please… I'm sorry. I'm s-sorry!" He desperately shook the boy's inert body as tears started to blur his vision. But nothing could undo what had been done.

A couple of nurses and his parents rushed to the bed, and found a crying 19 year old laying on the cold tiles of the hospital floor, weeping inconsolably in the same way that Chris had many times in the past. Mrs. Atwell covered her face with her hands while she broke up in tears, and her husband silently lowered his head with grief and pain.

The nurses soon made it official. Christopher Atwell died at 5:42 PM on the 30th of July, 1983.

There would be no more tomorrows for the one that was broken.

* * *

 _Is it finally over?  
_ _Are you finally done?  
_ _Are you happy now?  
_ _Did you have your fun?_

 _I hope that it was worth it  
All the tears I cried  
While you were laughing  
I was terrified_

 _And if I never see you again_  
 _Please remember me the way I was_  
 _Before I was broken_

 _And if I never wake_  
 _I pray the Lord my soul to take_  
 _And your words won't hurt me anymore_  
 _No, your words can't hurt me anymore._

 _I hope for peace_  
 _Maybe it's all for the best_  
 _No more Nightmares_  
 _In my final rest_

 _But one thing I'll never know_  
 _Is why you treated me like you did_  
 _I was your only brother_  
 _And I was just a kid..._

 _I wonder what mom and dad will do?_  
 _I hope one day they'll learn_  
 _To forgive you_

 _And if I never wake_  
 _I'll pray the Lord my soul to take_  
 _And nothing can hurt me anymore_  
 _No, nothing can hurt me..._

"Nothing can hurt me" by Andrew Stein AKA MandoPony

* * *

 **A/N:** Anyone else crying? No? Just me? Alright then...

As stated, this song belongs to the talented MandoPony, not me. Also, there is a reference to another FNaF song in Nightmare's dialogue. Did anyone get it? Let me know if you did :)

This fic will have a short epilogue that'll be on either tomorrow or next week. I'll see you then guys, take care.


	7. A new beginning

**IMPORTANT A/N:** Welcome once more guys, and thanks for being here. Before we begin, there is some explaining that I need to do.

An hour or so ago, I published what I thought would be the epilogue, the finale, el fin... as you wish to call it. You should've gotten the mail by now. It was long, more than 4K words, and after I had put it up I wasn't entirely sure if I was satisfied with it. Turns out, I was not. For the first time since I joined this website, I rushed my writing and put up something that I hadn't finished properly. Instead of leaving it like this and probably disappointing you, I decided to remove said epilogue from the story, split it in two parts, fix it up and republish it. The first part is this chapter, the second part will be the _real_ epilogue that I hope to publish this Saturday afternoon.

I wanted to apologize deeply for the inconvenience, especially to the 9 people who read that 'rogue' update. When it comes to writing I'm a bit of a perfectionist. That doesn't mean that my stories aren't perfect, because they certainly aren't. It just means that I want to make sure that what I'm doing is the best I can do, and that first epilogue simply wasn't that. Thanks for understanding.

Now, this one is kind of an info dump. I advice you to read carefully since there will be lots of referencing to previous events. I also highly recommend you to listen to 'Sweet Dreams' by Aviators, a fantastic FNaF song that matches pretty well with what will happen right now. Happy reading guys, see you tomorrow for the _real_ ending!

* * *

 **Chapter 7: A new beginning**

He was awakened by soft and distant noises coming from the darkness that surrounded him. As he tried to focus on the strange sounds, a tiny speck of pale light appeared in front of him. The glowing white orb grew quickly, until his whole vision was taken up by a blinding light. He tried to raise his arm to cover his eyes, but he couldn't move. The weightless feeling he was enjoying previously had been replaced by a clunky and heavy rigidness that seemed to hold him down. While he tried to figure out what was happening, blurry grey silhouettes began to appear in the previously immaculate white light, and the sounds he heard before became childish voices.

"Can he hear us?" asked a young boy eagerly, "Is he awake?"

"He is." replied another kid that sounded slightly older, "I can see some light in his eyes. Let's give him some space."

Eventually, the hazy shapes finally solidified into four distinct figures before Chris' eyes, and the blinding whiteness faded away to reveal the pizzeria's backstage area. He recognized them as the same animatronics that had taken care of him before: Freddy, Bonnie, Chica and Foxy. The four were staring down at his slumped-down body with expectation and happiness in their eyes.

Christopher became more aware of his surroundings as his last memories came back to him, and asked slowly and timidly "Where am I?" He gasped in surprise when he realized that his mouth wasn't moving as he spoke.

"You're home." answered a different boy from somewhere in the room, out of view. His young voice had a friendly quality to it, and made him out to be slightly older than Chris, for whom he sounded familiar yet strange. The four animatronics turned their heads to see a tall and thin puppet walk to their side. The strange figure had a slender black body with a white mask that served as its face. "Good evening!" continued the boy joyfully, his voice coming from the marionette, "And welcome to your new family… Gold."

"G-Gold?" stammered the child.

The puppet chuckled. "Take a good look at yourself."

Christopher began to slowly tighten what he assumed to be his hand before raising it to his face. A chill ran through him when he saw a four-fingered golden mechanical paw instead. He quickly looked down at his body, but he didn't see the nine year old human child that he used to be. In his place, there was the very same animatronic bear that crushed his skull. He slowly shook his head in horror and disbelief.

"I know it can be a bit overwhelming at first," resumed the puppet nonchalantly, "but you'll get used to it soon enough."

"This… this can't be real." hissed Chris fearfully, "It c-can't be."

Chica slowly knelt down next to the shell-shocked child. "Don't be afraid Gold," she said softly, "everything will be better now."

With a mechanical whir, the boy turned his head to look at the yellow figure. He had heard that voice before. "You're her." he whispered, "You're the girl that was murdered by a security guard at night."

The animatronic's purple eyes stared back at the child with mild confusion and amusement. "What are you talking about?" she chuckled playfully, "I've always been me, Chica!"

"No!" replied Christopher immediately, more harshly than intended. He stood up quickly and pointed at her with a big, round finger. "You're a human like me! You and your friends were killed months ago by a man that was wearing a purple uniform. I was there! I saw everyth-"

The puppet quickly stepped in between the yellow and golden figures. "Okay Gold, that's enough." he said in a patronizing voice, as if he was talking to a baby who didn't know any better. "I think we need to talk about some things, alone." He turned around to look at the other four animatronics. "Can you guys give us five minutes?" Freddy and Bonnie nodded, and soon they were leaving the backstage area through the red curtains, followed by Foxy and Chica.

"Who are you?" demanded Chris nervously as soon as he was alone with the puppet, "And why am I like this?"

Chuckling, the slender figure crossed his lanky arms and walked closer to the sitting bear. "We've been friends for a long time Gold, but I guess it's hard for you to recognize me like this."

"My name is Christopher." hissed the child angrily, balling his huge fists. "And I was never friends with anyone."

"Really?" replied the puppet with a different voice. It was gentle and childish, and Chris recognized it immediately. "You said a few minutes ago that you were still our friend." The marionette's perpetual grin seemed to grow just a bit wider when he put one of his arms behind his back, and brought it back to the front holding a smiling Goldie, who said with the puppet's new voice: "We're still your friends, aren't we?"

The stunned child remained still and silent, unable to process what he was seeing. "Did you ever feel like I was a little bit _too_ real?" continued the puppet with Goldie's voice, while the plush toy's mouth moved along like a ventriloquist dummy. "You have a fantastic imagination Chris, giving life to all your toys, including me."

"That's right Goldie!" said the puppet cheerily with his own voice, keeping up the ventriloquist act perfectly. "You see Gol, uh, Chris… I borrowed you imagination. I don't wanna brag, but I'm very good when it comes to understanding minds and doing things with them, for example, taking the appearance of an imaginary friend of yours for some time." The lanky marionette put the hand that was holding the image of Goldie behind his back once more, and brought it back to the front without anything after a second. "But since it's only an image in your mind, you were the only one that could see me in that form."

"Then it was you who said all those things." whispered the baffled boy, "You told me to spend the night here. Why?"

"So I could keep you safe from that horrible person who dares to call himself your brother." muttered the puppet spitefully, making a wave of hate come over Chris as he remembered Bryan's face, before the former resumed with a more gentle voice "But that's all in the past. Now that I have put you back together, you are part of a family that cares about you. _My_ family. Wasn't that what you wished for? Aren't you happy now?"

The puppet paused in hopes that the boy would answer, but the latter stayed quiet, not so afraid as much as surprised and confused. After a long silence, Christopher finally asked "If they're kids like me, why didn't they say so?"

The slender dark figure stayed silent for a few seconds, thinking about a way to answer the child's question. "They can't remember their past lives, only the fact that they were human once. Just like you, they were killed by a horrible person, but luckily I could give them a new life as the characters they love so much. When I did, they asked me to make them forget their past so they could be happier and start over, just like me."

"You erased their memories?!" The boy looked up at the puppet with apprehension.

"And they're much better off that way!" he replied joyfully, "But they still bear hate towards any guard that uses that purple uniform, so when it gets late at night sometimes they… get a bit aggressive." He paused for a second before looking at the child with curiosity. "What about you Chris?"

"Wh-what do you mean?" stuttered the boy, confused about the meaning of the sudden question.

Leaning down his white mask towards the child, the puppet whispered darkly and slowly "Who do you hate, Christopher? Who deserves to pay for your death?"

The boy's mind filled with anger when he replied almost automatically "My brother, Bryan." He clenched his fists tightly, and looking down at the floor, hissed in a bitter tone "I hate him."

The puppet was pleasantly surprised to hear this. He didn't expect to find so much wrath hidden in the heart of this child, who always seemed so passive and afraid. But that'd only make things easier. "Then I'll help you get back at this Bryan. How does that sound?"

"I'm not sure." whispered Chris doubtfully, "Revenge is a bad thing, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. But this is not revenge, it's justice! He took your life, and now you'll take his." Noticing the doubt of the boy in the animatronic's brown eyes, the puppet added "You told me two weeks ago, the day your brother locked you in your room for the last time, that you're not brave. When that guard murdered the girl, you blamed yourself for not being brave enough to help her. While you were having an imaginary conversation with your sister, you told her that you can't be brave. Now you can _finally_ be brave Christopher, if you just let me help you make justice." The black figure opened his black, spindly hand for the boy to take.

"And how are you going to do that?" asked Chris, now with more curiosity than fear in his voice.

"You'll see soon enough." promised the puppet, but the golden bear still didn't move. "Don't be afraid Chris, we've been friends for a long time after all! Just take my hand and we'll get you started on your new life."

Christopher thought about this for a while. He wasn't entirely comfortable in his new persona and part of him refused to hurt anyone, let alone his brother; but his hate was clouding his mind and made the idea increasingly tempting. The other children seemed eager to be with him, and during the two nights that he spent there they seemed like good people, even if they didn't see themselves as humans. And besides, he reasoned, what was left to lose?

After a few seconds, the boy held out his big, opened paw without saying a word. "You made a good choice Chris." said the marionette flatly, wrapping his needle-like fingers around it. "Now, I can fix you completely."

Before the boy could ask what he meant an electrifying pain coursed from the black hand into his body, making him twitch slightly as he slid down against the wall. "I'm very sorry, dear Christopher," sighed the puppet theatrically, tightening his grip on the golden paw, "but I can't let those ugly memories of yours get in our way. You'll feel much better after I'm done, just like the other kids. "

Chris managed to slowly raise his head and look at the towering figure, and groaned painfully and slowly "You s-said that t-they _chose_ to f-forget."

The puppet chuckled. "I lied. I'm sorry."

"B-but I don't want t-to forget!" cried out the boy, using his free hand to hold on to his aching head.

"Don't fight Christopher," purred the black marionette blood-chillingly, "just let yourself go."

The child didn't listen. He hopelessly tried to hold on to his memories, good and bad, as they slipped away into oblivion. "I don't w-want to f-forget her!" he begged, trying to remember Lizzie's face while the pain in his head worsened. But it was useless.

With a short cry, the boy's new body went limp on the floor as his paw slid weakly out of the puppet's grip. Unmoving, he lay there for a minute or two, fading in and out of consciousness while his mind tried to puzzle together what was left of him. Eventually, his large fingers began to move weakly again as a dim light appeared in the bear's brown eyes. He sat up slowly, holding a hand against his still-aching head.

The puppet leaned down close to the golden figure, and asked slowly "How do you feel now?"

With a mechanical whir, the animatronic raised his head and put down his hand. "I'm… I'm good." he said flatly, before letting out a short and eerie chuckle. "Actually, I'm great. Thank you for that, umm…"

"Just call me Marionette if you want." replied the puppet friendly, "Now, is there something you want to do?"

The bear thought for a while, and a single face appeared in his mind. He was a young man around 19 or 20, and though he seemed oddly familiar, his image sparked nothing more than wrath. At the same time, another distant memory surfaced: a tall, lean and featureless man clothed in purple that held a bloody knife in his hand. "I remember people, bad people." growled the golden figure, "People that deserve to die."

"Don't worry Chris," murmured Marionette in a calm voice, "we'll get on to that later."

"That's not my name." The puppet, delighted to hear those words, faced the now standing animatronic. "I chose to forget about that dead kid, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did." Marionette stayed in the backstage area as the new member of his family walked towards the red curtains, ready to meet the rest of the group. "So, what's your name?"

The animatronic stopped walking when he was right in front of the red curtains, and without turning around, answered matter-of-factly "Gold." He let out a sly smile as he stepped into the dining area. "Just Gold."

* * *

Soon after he had left, a lean man in his purple uniform stepped out of a utility closet in the backstage area, and walked towards Marionette with a triumphant smile on his face. "I told you, didn't I?" said Benedict with glee, "I told you that we'd find our last kid and save him from that miserable life, just like the rest. You did a great job."

"Thank you Mr. Yoska." replied the puppet proudly, "After being with him for so long, it was pretty easy to learn his fears. Even so, he lasted much longer in my nightmares than I expected, but it was just a matter of time. Taking control of his brother and making him do what he did on his birthday was a bit more difficult, but you saw how well that went." The slender figure's proud demeanor faltered as he let out a long sigh. "I wish they could see that this is the best for them, and just accept it like I did instead of fighting it."

"Don't worry about that." chuckled Benedict, "He can't remember anything just like the rest, right? He only knows that he was human once, but he thinks that he chose to forget out of his own will." The killer's companion nodded silently. "Then it's over. We saved our child from a life of suffering."

"Still, he seems different from the rest." Marionette stared at the place where Gold was sitting a moment ago. "More hateful even, though he doesn't show it."

"That's good, isn't it? After all, it was your idea to make him resent his brother. He'll be happy to join the others in their... game with the guards."

"But he has strong emotions that could make him remember his old life." countered the puppet, "Can we keep him under control?"

"Of course!" Benedict beamed another confident smile. "He's happy to be one of them, so he'll play along just fine." After those reassuring words, the murderer and the manipulator stayed in a comfortable silence for a while.

"So, what now?" asked Marionette eventually.

Benedict shrugged. "Now that everyone is happy and our family is complete, we just wait and see what will come next."

The puppet didn't answer. Something told him that what would come next wouldn't be such a smooth road.

He was right.


	8. Epilogue

**A/N:** I promise that _this_ is the real epilogue.

For the last time in this fic, welcome back guys. I wanted to start by thanking _all_ of you for your support throughout these two and a half months. So, to everyone that reviewed, favorited, followed or just read: thank you _very_ much from the bottom of my heart. I'm also thankful to anyone that points out errors or flaws, or that gives me constructive criticism in general. Even if you don't remember where you read the typos, I still thank you very much for telling me that they're there, and yes, that's for you N ;)

My apologies for not putting this up yesterday like I said, but some unexpected stuff happened and... well, you get the picture.

And now, here is the 'ending' of the story. Happy reading!

* * *

 **Epilogue**

The silver moon of the young night beamed down on Bryan as he entered a Freddy Fazbear's Pizza for the first time since his brother's incident. Even though over a year had passed, the lone son felt a spike of guilt in his heart every time he remembered what happened that day. He still didn't know how he was capable of doing what he did, but he tried not to dwell on it.

The 20 year old had changed his life completely after Christopher's death. He had cut ties with many bad influences, including the ones that helped him with his 'prank'. He also helped his parents by cleaning the house and doing choirs, and he visited his siblings' graves at least two times a week. But today he was about to take the biggest step of all. After thoughtful consideration, he concluded that the best way to amend what he had done to his little brother was to protect children like him here, in the place that took his life.

Bryan walked up to the receptionist's desk close to the entrance, amazed by how many things were different in this new establishment. "Uh, hi." he greeted with a polite smile, "I called yesterday about taking the job here as a day guard."

The young female receptionist looked up at him and returned his smile. "Mr. Atwell, wasn't it?" Bryan nodded silently. "The manager is waiting for you at the security office. Just follow any of those two halls and you'll be there."

"Thanks, umm…" Bryan's voice trailed off as he looked down at the woman's nameplate.

"Pauline." said the receptionist happily, "Assuming that you were only looking at my chest to see my name."

"I, w-well, off course!" stuttered the shamefaced young man, while Pauline chuckled playfully.

"I was only kidding!" she snickered, "Go on Mr. Atwell, you don't have all night."

Now smiling himself, Bryan thanked her and walked briskly past the show stage. The pizzeria had recently closed for the day, so Freddy, Bonnie and Chica stood at the stage with their plastic eyes staring straight into nothing. Ignoring them, Bryan quickly turned around and walked down the west hall until he found a tiny security office.

Through the window next to a wooden door he saw a middle-aged man sitting in front of a desk, reading some paperwork sprawled over a couple of manila folders next to a cassette recorder on the desk. The young man knocked on the door, and the manager quickly jumped up from his chair to greet him with a smile.

"Good evening son!" he beamed, clutching Bryan's hand in a firm shake. "How's everything going for you?"

Slightly overwhelmed by his friendliness, the young man stuttered "Uh, I'm doing fine, thanks sir." He discretely looked down at the man's nameplate. "Pleasure to meet you Mr. Hobbs."

The manager raised his hand dismissively. "Just call me Eric. Now, should we get started?" Eric gestured for Bryan to walk into his office, and he obeyed. He found a plastic stool next to the desk and sat on it, leaving the more comfortable swivel seat to the manager.

What followed over the next few minutes was an unconventional job interview. Instead of asking about studies and qualifications, Eric focused almost exclusively on Bryan's personal qualities, especially if he considered himself good at keeping secrets. He also wanted to know whether or not he had a past with the establishment, to which Bryan replied "Nothing worth mentioning. I just want to help keep the kids safe."

Seemingly satisfied with the answer, the manager asked a few more questions surrounding the same subjects, before stretching out his opened hand to the interviewee and saying with a smile "Well son, that's all I needed to know. You're in!"

"Really?!" Bryan beamed with happiness as he shook his new superior's hand. "Fantastic! Thank you so much!"

"You're welcome son!" replied the manager joyfully, releasing his grip. "Now, are you free tonight? There's something I'd like you to do for me, if you have time off course."

"No problem. What is it?"

The manager pointed at the papers and the cassette recorder on top of the desk, "I don't know if you've ever heard about the suits that the employees wear to interact with the kids sometimes."

"Fredbear and Spring Bonnie." said Bryan with confidence. "Is there something wrong with them?"

"No, no, not at all." replied Eric energetically yet uneasily, "It's just that we had a little accident with one of them some time ago. We decided to leave some instruction tapes for the rookies so that they'll know what they're doing and avoid more problems. The previous guard was about to do it, but he…uh… quit yesterday. Do you think you can get it done?"

"No problem Eric." was Bryan's answer, "Uh, so I just sit there and record what's on the papers?"

"Exactly! Now, if you don't mind I'll leave you to it." The manager stood up from his seat and gave another quick handshake to his new employee before leaving the office. "Good luck son!" he called out as he stepped into the hallway, "Remember to be here tomorrow at 9 AM sharp, we'll give you your keys and uniform then!"

"I will, thank you!" Bryan waved at the man through the window before sitting on the previously occupied seat and going through the papers. He realized that they only mentioned important information to be explained, but there was no actual script. The young man sighed, put the first paper in front of him, popped a cassette into the recorder and turned it on. He'd just have to improvise.

"Uh, hey hey. Uh, welcome…" Bryan's voice trailed off, and he shook his head. He'd need something else than his normal greeting for casual situations. After a few moments of pondering, he put a new cassette into the recorder and pressed play.

"Uh, hello hello! Uh, welcome to your new career as a performer slash entertainer for Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. Uh, these tapes will provide you with much needed information on how to handle slash climb into slash climb out of mascot costumes. Right now, we have two specially designed suits that double as both animatronics and suits. So please pay close attention while learning how to operate these suits as accidents slash injuries slash death slash irreparable and grotesque maiming can occur."

Bryan kept recording more instructions regarding the operation of the spring lock suits. Once done, he explained the presence and usage of the establishment's safe rooms in another tape. Although he realized that he let himself get a bit carried away whilst describing the possible consequences of a malfunction of the suit, he was satisfied after completing his first assignment as an employee of Freddy's.

The young man exited the office and walked back to the entrance through the dark and quiet building, trying his best to ignore the uneasy feeling that welled up inside of him as he did. Once he was back in the dining area, he was surprised to see Pauline waiting for him at the entrance.

"Uh, hey hey." greeted Bryan as he walked up to her. "Where's the manager?"

"He left for the day." answered the receptionist flatly. "He asked me to wait for you before locking up the building, so…" She shrugged. "Here we are Mr. Atwell."

"Just call me Bryan." said the young man casually. "We'll be seeing each other often from now on anyways." He waited for Pauline to open the door and accompanied her out of the building, making pleasant small talk to her before they wished each other a good night and went their separate ways.

Both of them were blissfully unaware of the tall golden figure hiding in the shadows, leering at Bryan from the darkness of the place that was now his home.

* * *

 _The end of the beginning_

* * *

 **A/N:** Yes, Bryan becomes Phone Guy and yes, Chris becomes Golden Freddy. Is this a happy ending, a tragic ending or something in between? I have no idea. That may seem weird coming from the guy who wrote this thing, but in reality this ending's tone depends entirely on how you chose to see things as readers.

But it doesn't have to be an ending at all. Though I have no plans of making any kind of sequel for reasons of limited time, I invite you guys to figure out your own version of events. I apologize if this 'ending' didn't seem conclusive or satisfactory, but it wasn't mean to be. It was meant to make you think, theorize and build your own story, just like FNaF 4. Now that the beginning has ended, it's up to you to decide how things will go on from here, and if they will go in a good or bad way. In any case, I'd like to hear your honest opinions about this last part.

If you enjoyed this story, I invite you to check out my other, much longer FNaF fic: The ones that were lost. It'd be fun to see you guys over there as well, since it's still ongoing. If you don't feel like it, then that's okay as well :)

On behalf of Chris, Bryan, Lizzie, Benedict, Goldie/Marionette and everyone else I thank you for reading this story till the end, and I sincerely hope you had as much fun reading as I had writing. See you on the flip side!

Happy reading and happy writing,

-Harmonics


End file.
